


Teenage kicks (all through the night)

by Directionless_Foray



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Coming Out, Crack, F/M, M/M, really a mess of everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-24
Packaged: 2018-02-15 16:52:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 27,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2236425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Directionless_Foray/pseuds/Directionless_Foray
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where:<br/>Mesut is the new kid.<br/>Everyone is on the football team (almost everyone.)<br/>Cris may be ever-so-slightly bi.<br/>It’s obvious that Sergio and Iker are in love with each other to everyone but themselves.<br/>No one knows why Mourinho is teaching chemistry.<br/>The school spreads the most ridiculous rumours known to man.</p><p>Part self-indulgent crack and part teenage angst.</p><p>Discard reality to enjoy this high-school au.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I really have no explanation for this giant mess.  
> Good luck navigating through the crack, angst and stupidity only truly talented and pretty boys posses.  
> High-school au

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It all has to begin somewhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, as stated above please do not apply logic to this as there is very little. Between a mess of Australian, American and Spanish high-school systems I settled on an american one which I rejigged a bit to suit the story.  
> Similarly some characters may be ooc but just PLEASE GO WITH IT. If the response is positive I'll continue this.  
> When I got the idea of my RM babies in highschool I just COULD NOT let it go so yeah, it happened.  
> (btw I'm running with the 2011-12 squad, or well, parts of it.)  
> I think it's fairly obvious where I got the title from. *twiddles thumbs*

This should feel like a _fresh beginning_ and _new opportunities_ and all that optimistic crap but it really doesn't, it just feels like every other day to be perfectly honest. And that's fine, Cristiano isn't complaining, he's just stating a fact.

Nothing even remotely out of the ordinary will happen this year, he knows it.

Cris doesn't even need to take a deep breath to calm himself before he enters the hallway. He knows the drill, stroll through the doors and nod to whoever is stood to the side, regardless of if you actually know them, wink at the freshman girls who'll then giggle and finally go find the boys. Today they seem to have congregated by some of the lockers, it appears that Marcelo is retelling a particularly riveting story if his hand gestures are anything to go by. Everyone’s expressions range from shock to amusement to painful _fondness_. Cris realises that they haven’t noticed him and _that just won’t do_.

“You can all relax now, I’ve made it!” Cris announces sparing a wink for some of the few freshman girls still in the vicinity. The boys laugh and whoop and before he knows it Cris is surrounded by familiar faces.

Sergio greets him with a giant smile and a hug. Next to him Iker is also grinning and claps Cris on the back, “welcome back your highness,” he laughs, eyes crinklng.

“Good to be back.” And it is, _it really is._

Kaka pulls him into a one-armed hug and then ruffles his hair, Cris would be lying if he said Kaka wasn't his favourite.

Naturally chaos ensues as everyone tries to conduct their own conversations and catch ups all at once.

“Dude when did you get so ripped!?” Fabio pokes Cris’ side.

“When has he ever not been ripped?” Sami rolls his eyes.

“...Hey Iker,” Sergio blushes.

“Hey Sergio,” Iker smiles warmly.

“Where the hell is room 91?”

“... Do you mean room 16, Pepe?”

“Yeah! Thanks man, you always were the smart one!”

A chorus of outraged "hey!"s erupt from the group.

Eventually everyone finds their way to their assigned homerooms, Iker, Kaka and Xabi off to their _senior_ meetings and the rest of the boys disperse. 

Cris finds himself in the same homeroom as Sergio.

“Great, another year of hearing how _amazing_ Casillas is,” he teases Sergio as they settle into seats at the back of the room, Sergio promptly turns an interesting shade of red (Cris wishes he wasn't the only one here to see it.) 

”Shut up, I don’t!”

“Mmm, yeah sure,” Cris grins slyly.

“Leave him alone Cristiano,” Cris looks up at the familiar voice to see Irina setting her bag in the seat in front of his. His grin deepens.

"May I say that you are looking particularly breathtaking today, Miss Shayk?" he drawls. Sergio chuckles but his cheeks are still tinged pink. “It’s truly a pleasure to see that you have chosen to sit in front of  _me_ ,” Cris continues.

“Yes, I do believe it is,” Irina responds calmly before pulling out her pencil case and notebook as their homeroom teacher walks in. “Oh and for the record,” Irina smirks, turning around in her seat to face Sergio, “Casillas is something else, isn’t he Ramos?” Sergio splutters and Cris almost dies on the spot from his distressed expression.

 

-

 

One might call Cris and Irina an on-and-off couple, one might also assume that Danishes are from Denmark (they’re actually from _Austria_ ), Cris just sees it as a rotation of sorts (him and Irina, not danishes, carbohydrates are evil), some days he and Irina are together, other times? They’re just not, and that system has been working fine for the past three years.

Simple as that.

Pepe texts him about a party after school and Cris smiles to himself before relaying the message to Irina and Sergio. 

_Ah, a new school year._

 

-

 

_By the end of the day the rumour is that Cris and Irina are back together and that they reconciled after being the sole witnesses at Sergio and Iker’s secret beachside wedding. Unsurprisingly, it’s only the first part of the rumour that causes a stir within the school._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Almost) everyone is hungover.  
> Chemistry class is madness.  
> Mesut makes his first appearance.  
> Everyone has lunch.  
> Xabi ships Stelena.
> 
> (In that order)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lets be honest, we all love a hungover RM.  
> I'm sorry if the quality thus far has been, for lack of a better word, shitty, I need to get through this background-ish stuff before I can get into the nitty gritty.  
> So, as always, enjoy! x

Cris has decided that Sergio is really bad at pretending he’s not nursing the mother of all hangovers. He's been watching him for almost 20 minutes and Cris knows that Sergio is not fooling **anyone.** That being said Fabio and Marcelo are not doing much better. Perhaps the start of the year party did get slightly out of hand. And yes, it is easy for Cris to sit on his (alcohol-free) throne and make fun of those idiots but what else is he going to do?

He grins at Sami who also wisely opted out of the alcohol last night. The corner of his lips twitch upwards but his face remains otherwise expressionless, Cris watches as he subtly winks at him and snaps his fingers next to a sleeping Marcelo’s right ear. Marcelo startles awake and promptly falls off his stool.

Sami and Cris completely lose it which somehow fails to wake up the still gently snoring Fabio. Marcelo rubs his eyes whilst sprawled on the ground, unaware of the whole class erupting into giggles. Even Clarisse is openly laughing despite the dark circles under her own eyes.

Mourinho doesn’t look too impressed, he doesn’t look too surprised either though.

“How exactly are you going to explain this Mr. Viera?”

“Sorry Mou, I was paying too much attention, you know, to chemistry, things are made of atoms yeah?”

The class erupts into even more laughter if that’s even possible.

Mourinho’s expression softens ever so slightly, Cris is reminded of early mornings and afternoons where all that existed was the green expanse of the field, the blue sky and the team.

“Well Mr. Viera, **perhaps** you should rethink your recreational activities, **perhaps** they should include more chemistry and less,” Mourinho is gravitating around the classroom, looking for his next target, his gaze locks onto the _still_ blissfully asleep Coentrao, “less _underage drinking_ ,” he finishes, sweeping Fabio’s books off the table with a flourish. The sound wakes Fabio up immediately and he topples off his stool, Cris makes eye contact with Carol who is trying not to burst into laughter and simply raises her eyebrows. Cris waggles his in return and she shakes her head and collapses into giggles.

Mourinho has no choice but to shake his head as well and smile fondly, he offers Fabio a hand and mutters a gruff, “look after yourselves boys, tryouts are tomorrow aren't they.” It’s not phrased as a question. He makes eye contact with all of them, “all of you.” Cris’ heart clenches and he’s positive he isn’t the only one. Making Mourinho teach chem and give up coaching the football team is one of the most perplexing things ever in Cris’ mind, and Cris took philosophy one year (only because Ricky promised it would be interesting, spoiler, it wasn’t.)

“Yes sir,” Sergio responds and Cris finds himself nodding as well.

A tentative knock is heard and everyone is the class looks to the doorway.

Mourinho smiles warmly, or, what is probably meant to be a warm smile, “yes, we have a new addition to the class, please make him feel welcome and please try not to instill your juvenile delinquent-like ways in him.”

The class titters as the new student stands in the doorway. Cris notices Sami smiling at him, so he looks up at the new boy. His big eyes look wary, but his posture relaxes when he sees Sami,  _they must be friends_ _,_ Cris thinks to himself. _He has really nice eyes,_ he muses to himself, _**really** nice eyes._

The boy sits down in the spare seat between him and Sami, Mou gets the class's attention by pushing Fabio's books on the floor again, "all you drunkards say hello to..."

"...Mesut," the stranger supplies quietly. The class all wave and call out "hi!" and "hey there!"

Cris smiles, the poor guy looks lost. Mesut smiles back but then his brow furrows as he notices Marcelo still on the floor, having not bothered to get up.

“Uh, few of the guys and _ladies_ ” he stresses nodding at Clarisse, who rolls her eyes, “had a little something to drink and are struggling today,” Cris whispers by way of explanation.

Mesut looks at Cris for a few seconds, “ _you_ look fine.”

“Well I guess that’s because I don’t drink,” he shrugs his shoulders.

“...neither do I,” responds with a small smile gracing his lips.

“That’s a relief to hear,” Cris rips his gaze from Mesut’s smile to Mou’s smirk, _jesus christ when did he get there, he's like batman_ , “you play football kid?”

Mesut looks to Sami for a second, “um yes?”

“You should try out for the team, lord knows it could use less unfit alcoholics.”

“I will?”

“Good,” Mou nods to himself and walks over to see if Carol and Clarisse are texting again.

Mesut bites his lip, “is he always like that?” he asks Cris.

Cris leans towards him, “only when Marcelo’s hungover before tryouts,” hearing his name Marcelo waves from the ground.

“I see,” the soft smile is back on his face and Cris can’t explain why that makes him feel warm inside. Cris might have a stupid smile on his face, he can't be too sure. Wow, stupidly smiling at a stranger for no other reason than because he likes said stranger's smile, how the mighty have fallen. Oddly enough, the fall didn't hurt at all. He didn't feel anything, and judging by Mesut's gentle smile he hasn't felt it either. _Maybe they just haven't fallen yet, maybe they can fall together_ Cris' mind suggests helpfully.   

“Hey guys stop flirting already,” Sergio says loudly.

“Ramos, is that Casillas by the door?” Mourinho interjects.

Sergios jaw falls open and his face colours. The class catcalls and Mourinho gets that fond expression on his face again.   

 

-

 

Lunch is it’s usual chaotic mess, Marcelo and Sergio are recreating chem class _with actions,_ Irina and Clarisse are cutting off each other's split-ends, Fabio is inhaling some sort of sandwich (Cris thinks he saw chips and pineapple slices in it at one point) and Iker is just trying to eat a small tub of blueberry yogurt in peace.

Carol is perched delicately on Kaka’s lap and places a manicured hand on Cris’ arm, “is he fitting in alright?” She gestures at Mesut who is sharing a bag of chips with Sami and Pipita (Cris maintains: carbs are evil.)

“Are we maybe too much?” Kaka adds, concern colouring his voice, because he’s just a _nice guy_.

“Guys, I’m sure he’s fine, we’re not actually that bad.” Cris has only just finished his sentence when Xabi throws his graham crackers at Angel and barks out an angry,

“Elena never loved Damon, she has always loved Stefan and only Stefan.”

Yet again, Cris curses the girls for introducing Xabi to the Vampire Diaries.

 

-

  
 _The rumour currently doing the rounds is that Angel likened Sergio and Iker to Elena and Damon and Xabi_ _consequently_ _used his crackers as shurikens._

_I_ _n totally unrelated news the football team is after a new left-winger._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And just re-reading over this I realise how crack-y it sounds, perhaps that's the direction I'll take it.  
> All feedback is welcome, feel free to contact me at my tumblr: letsbeabunchofweirdos.tumblr.com


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Football tryouts and identity crisises. Not at once though.  
> (minimal swearing in this chapter)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we're getting into things! Yey *happy dance*  
> As always, enjoy! Comments and feedback are warmly welcomed :)

Cris walks out of English class in a daze, mind full of verb conjugations and silent letters and whatnot. Wednesday English lessons are always a challenge, tedious if anything. What keeps him going is the thought of tryouts, whilst it’s almost a given he’ll make the team, _he’s Cristiano Ronaldo for fucks sake_ , there’s still a faint trace of anxiety low in the pit of his stomach. _Perhaps he should get there early and run some laps, get a head start. Yeah, that’s a good idea._

“Yo, ‘naldo!” Cris turns around at the sound of his name.

“Hey Alves,” he smiles, Clarisse latches onto his arm and flips her hair. Around them the student body chatters, _“Irina will be so jealous,” “What about Marcelo, he’ll probably fall off another chair.”_

“So… the new kid eh?” she feigns nonchalance, badly.

“What, moving on from Marcelo to greener pastures?” Cris responds, not missing a beat.

“Psh as if, anyway, my point is, you seemed pretty interested in him.”

Cris groans, “seriously? Sergio got to you? I honestly just gave him a lift home yesterday, that’s all.”

Clarisse just smiles and shushes him, “I’m just saying he’s cute, gorgeous eyes no?”

 _What an understatement_  

Cris shrugs his shoulders noncommittally.

“Plus,” Clarisse’s smile has morphed into a toothy grin, “he appears to be _just your type_ ”

Cris laughs surprised, “I wasn’t aware I had a _type._ ”

“Oh but you so **do** ,” Cris furrows his brows. “Even more lost than you are,” shesupplies,  whispering in his ear before tossing him a wink and strutting off.

Cris has no choice but to watch her leave. He makes a mental note to warn Marcelo that his girlfriend could probably start WWIII should it strike her fancy.

 

-

 

The sky is blue and there is still a faint chill in the air as he lines up with the rest of the juniors. He notes some new faces, some of them gaze at him with open shock and adoration. _Ah the hazards of being a bit of a local celebrity. And having great hair and abs. That too._ He notices Mesut at the corner of his eyes smiling and laughing with Sami and Sergio, _smiling and laughing without him._

When did he start getting possessive of anything that wasn't football related? _Better question, when did captivating new students start looking like they could stare into your soul?_

Sami claps Mesut on the shoulder and whispers in his ear. Mesut blushes and swats at a grinning Sami. 

_When did he get jealous of Sami for anything that wasn't his ability to cultivate truly impressive facial hair._

_Jeez_ , Cris shudders and focuses on stretching. This he can do without thinking.

Iker blows his whistle to signal the start of tryouts and suddenly his mind is crystal clear.

_Almost._

_Mesut is still standing with Sami._

 

_

 

“Sergio,” Iker nods gruffly, his face red, possibly from exertion or the fact that somewhere in the tryouts Sergio shucked off his shirt (Cris is positive he saw Iker salivate.) Or both (Cris wasn’t going to go easy on Iker just because he clearly had a thing for Ramos). Everyone fakes shock and surprise,

“really? Sergio as vice-captain?” “I had no idea you would pick him!” “Ooh Iker, bit of a gamble there eh?” "Never saw that one coming!"

Iker turns an even deeper shade of scarlet and Sergio bites his lip and averts his gaze to stare at his sneaker-clad feet.

Iker coughs and tries to bring back some semblance of decorum, Cris notes that his face is still noticeably pink and Sergio is still shirtless. He and Kaka exchange a look, _this is going to be an interesting season._ Mesut catches his gaze, points his thumb at Iker and Sergio and mouths “are they seriously that blind?” Cris laughs and Mesut also chuckles a little because that’s exactly what they are, Sergio and Iker,  _blind_.

Cris’ laughter dies in his throat as he notices Mesut’s shirt riding up as he laughs, exposing a sliver of pale skin and hip bone. Cris’ mouth goes dry.

_Yeah, a really interesting season._

-

 

Okay, here’s the deal.

Cris may be just a little, bi. His reasoning is that everyone loves Cristiano Ronaldo so much that it’s only fair that he share the love around, non-exclusively of course. If you think about it (really hard and squint, sideways) he’s just doing his bit as a charitable individual to _society as a whole._   _It's also why he chooses to mow the lawn sans shirt, he's just giving the people what the people want._   

That being said, no one really knows. _Sure, everyone jokes that Cris flirts with anything that moves but really, there's a **difference.**_

And why should anyone suspect a thing, he and Irina have been on-and-off for so long that anything else seems as ludicrous as Sergio and Iker **not** being together. But Sergio and Iker are blind to eachothers devotion and Cri is bisexual.  These are just the facts.

Cris' head hurts from all the thinking and self-contemplation. He buys a danish on the way home and shame eats it.

He does 300 sit ups when he gets home so it's almost like it never happened. _Almost_

 

-

 

_For the rest of the week the school is speculating over if Cristiano has been replaced by a carbohydrate eating alien who was seen flirting with Clarisse and conducting a social investigations of humans.  There is currently a betting pool as to which planet he's from._

_An anonymous party under the name of QueenCA has placed $50 on Venus._

_Another going by the name of CurlyMofo has placed $60 on Uranus._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed that. As you probably noticed I have no idea what to include for tryouts so I just glossed over it lol. Feedback, suggestions and corrections are all welcomed :)  
> As before, my tumblr is letsbeabunchofweirdos.tumblr.com


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cris effs up majorly.  
> Marcelo is very involved in the rumour mill.  
> Sergio is STILL bad at subtlety.   
> Clarisse is awesome.  
> Iker is sleeping on the couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Umm wow this got really angsty really fast, still crack-y though.  
> Apologies if it feels like things are moving too fast in this chapter.  
> I needed to sort of depict the panic going on and set up some basis stuff.  
> I hope you enjoy it :)  
> As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

The team sheet goes up on Friday. Cris tells everyone that he won't even bother checking, (that's a blatant lie, he sneaks a glance on his way to math class.)

His heart skips a beat when he notices Mesut's name beneath his.

 

Within two hours of the sheet being put up someone has drawn a love heart around Sergio and Iker’s names.

 

-

 

In chem class Mou claps all the boys on the shoulders and chokes out a "congratulations."

Cris swears he looks a little teary eyed and if that doesn't make you feel even just a little emotional you're dead inside.

Fabio sniffles and pulls Mou into a hug.

 

-

 

Cris decided, whilst doing his sit ups the day before, that this thing, no, it’s not even a _thing,_ this, whatever it is with Mesut is nothing. Nothing.

Friday morning he picks up Irina, she arches her eyebrow as he pulls up in her family’s driveway.

“I don’t recall calling a cab.”

“Can’t a friend give another friend, who is looking very beautiful today by the way, a friendly ride to school?”

“Are we _friends?”_

“Well, that’s sort of what I wanted to discuss...” Cris trails off before opening the door for Irina, _so sue him, he’s a gentleman._  

 

-

 

From there on it’s pretty repetitive. _Baby we were so good together. You seemed pretty good with Bella. You moved onto a **golf player**. He has a name._

_I missed you Irina._

And there is the clincher.

Underneath it all Irina is a girl, a girl who thought she was in love with Cris. A girl who wants to believe she was and still is in love with Cris, he wants and wanted to believe it as well. Everyone wants to be wanted.

It’s crazy the things you’ll turn a blind eye to in order to get that feeling.

Even if it’s fake.

Irina swallows, she looks weary and tired, _I missed you too_. Her fingers find their way into his. The wind blows her hair around and it feels like their in some sort of infomercial or ad for luxury cars. Cris wants to laugh but his chest hurts.

This is right _(no it's not.)_

This is the way things should be _(no)_.

The sun shines and reflects Irina’s perceptive green eyes and for a split second Cris can pretend he isn’t wanting something he can’t even define.

 

-

 

Needless to say the school is buzzing about the confirmed news that the resident “power couple” are back together.  

And yes, it does feel like falling of the bandwagon but when Cris pulls out a seat for Irina and offers her his hoodie at least he knows this is what he’s _meant_ to do.

 

-

 

When Mesut tries to ask Cris to help him translate something he just laughs and says that Sergio is the best at spanish.

Cris sits next to Kaka and Carol with Irina in his lap for lunch, Mesut doesn’t bother sitting in the seat next to him.

Sami doesn’t speak to Cris for the rest of the day.

On the weekend Cris jogs, buys groceries actually does his homework, watches tv and tries not to feel guilty.

 

-

 

 

Monday passes by in a blur. Even though he’s a fairly new addition to the group everyone notices how Cris and Mesut aren’t speaking to each other outside of obligatory greetings and _“can you please move over?” “where is room 14?”_ and such.

Cris thinks Sergio is going to make a big deal out of it when he looks at him with troubled eyes in homeroom. Sergio opens his mouth but seems to think better of because he just sighs and shakes his head, “never mind.”

And Cris feels like shit.

 

-

 

As Cris leaves chemistry at the end of the day on Tuesday he feels a tentative hand latch onto his arm. He swivels around to face a concerned looking Clarisse.

He wants to laugh at how much this feels like deja vu but it sounds pained more than anything.

_“Oh my gosh, he’s with Irina, she has Marcelo, what a skank.”_

“Yeah, and why don’t you fuck off.” She glares at the sophomore who looks terrified, Cris would not want to be on the receiving end of Clarisse’s anger.

The girl’s comments, snarky as they are, do serve as a reminder of what has changed since Clarisse and Cris’ conversation almost a week ago.

“Hey 'risse, it’s okay,” he says tiredly, pulling her away from the girl, not before frowning at the rude girl. “Butt out of matters you don’t fully understand.”

They continue on in companionable if somewhat strained silence.

“I was joking you know.”

“...what,” Cris furrows his brows, “about that gir-?”

“You and Mesut,” she smiles tiredly, “I was only joking.”

“... I knew that.”

“You've been giving him the cold shoulder for a few days withput any reason."

Cris doesn't respond.

"You’re being a shitty friend.”

Cris stops.

“... I know that as well,” he allows guilt colour his voice. He can’t even bring himself to look at her.

There’s silence as they approach the change rooms, Clarisse detaches herself from his arm. Cris thinks she’s just going to leave him hanging so he’s caught off guard when she places a hand on his upper arm and looks into his eyes, “just fix it alright?”

“Okay.”

“Alright,” she smiles relieved. “You better go, don’t want to keep the team waiting for their _star player._ ” It’s a weak attempt at a joke but he appreciates it nonetheless.

“Will do,” he chuckles, as he begins walking away he stops, turns around and yells, “you’re pretty fucking awesome,” across the field.

Clarisse laughs, open and surprised. “Tell that to Marcelo!” she yells from the school gates.

 

-

 

Iker pulls him aside before he enters the locker room.

He looks hesitant but he still places a hand on Cris’ shoulder.

“Look, I know you may not want to talk about it but, you and Mesut, but are you guys alright?”

Cris nods, more to himself than anything, “Clarisse talked to me,”

Iker lets out a breath of relief.

“I’ll fix this.”

Iker grins.

“But first you need to share wedding photos with the team.”

Iker scowls and curses as Cris darts into the change room laughing.

 

-

 

Cris strides into the change room a man with a purpose. He spots Mesut and wastes no time walkig right up to him.

The easy chatter in the room dissipates.

Cris moves to tap Mesut on the shoulder before he effectively chickens out but Sami moves to block his view. 

Mesut continues tying his laces.

"Yes?" Sami asks coldly.

Cris looks at him, he tries to convey, "I've been a total dickhead because I've sort of been having a sexuality crisis which was enhanced by a bit of an identity crisis and the fact that I may have not-just-friends feelings for your friend over there so I consequently freaked the fuck out and treated him like shit," with just his eyes.

Sami raises his eyebrows and despite how far fetched that was he is still disappointed that after so many years of friendship Sami failed to comprehend what were very simple and easy to grasp promp-

"Go ahead."

Oh, Cris reminds himself to buy Sami a really nice gift.

"HEY GUYS, LET'S GO OUTSIDE AND UH...GO OUTSIDE... YEAH I LOVE FRESH AIR AND FOOTBALL," Sergio calls out.

Everyone in the vicinity winces but the boys shuffle out nonetheless, Sergio throws Cris a wink and a thumbs up.

 Cris reminds himself to buy Sami a really nice gift and give Sergio a noogie.

Mesut stands up and tries to brush past Cris. Cris grabs his arm.

"Not you."

"...I do love fresh air and football," he murmurs quietly.

"Well you'll just have to wait a little while to go enjoy it."

“Are we  _friends?”_ Cris is aware that's what Irina asked him a couple days ago but there's absolutely no way he can bluff his way through this one.

"I'm sorry." Mesut's head whips up and he looks genuinely shocked. "I was a shitty friend."

"I am so sorry, I understand if you would never want to speak to me ever again."

Mesut's lip tremble.

"I'm, I'm dealing with some shit and that's no excuse but I feel that you should know." Mesut looks up warily at Cris.

"Please, please give me another chance. You're unlike anyone I've ever met and I want desperately to be your friend."

There is a pregnant pause and Cris contemplates if getting on his knees and begging seems too desperate.

"I just wanted to know to translate _chance_ into spanish," his smile is weak but it's there.

Cris breathes an audible sigh of relief, "oportunidad," he rasps.

There is a pause and they both burst out laughing.

"WOW THIS WEATHER IS LOVELY, I SURE WISH MESUT AND CRISTIANO COULD COME AND ENJOY THIS LOVELY WEATHER WITH U-"

"SESE YOU CAN STOP, Cris, Mesut get your asses out here!" Iker bellows.

The team gasps. Sergio is silent.

"I'M SORRY SESE, PLEASE, I DIDN'T MEAN IT LIKE THAT."

"Psh, you're _so_ sleeping on the couch tonight cap'n"

"Shut up Viera."

Mesut and Cris chuckle, Mesut reaches his hand out to pat Cris' arm but pauses, he tentatively pats Cris' shoulder. "You should get changed," he winks and Cris stops breathing. Cris nods dumbly and watches as Mesut walks out the doorway, he notices Sami waiting by the door looking stoic as usual but with a twinkle in his eye.

Cris stands there for a few minutes before moving to change.

His shoulder still feels warm from Mesut's touch.

 

-

 

_Rumour has it Iker an Sergio had a bit of a lover's spat in the very first football training of the new year._

_Apparently comments about the "weather" are code for "I'm annoyed you didn't sign the pre-nup I'm moving to whatever planet alien-Cris is from."_

_Marcelo Viera, an inside source close to the newlyweds claim friends are trying to intervene and have suggested couple's counselling in a desperate bid to "remind them why they fell in love and got married in the first place."_

_-_

_Marcelo Viera has been benched for the first game by captain Casillas._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?  
> My tumblr is www.letsbeabunchofweirdos.tumblr.com  
> Feedback is appreciated :)  
> Many thanks for all the kudos thus far! x


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mesut plays cupid.  
> Cris wishes he didn't have to watch.  
> A plan is hatched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no explanation for this haha.  
> Anything bolded is a note passed in class ;)  
> This is intended to lead into the next chapter.  
> Enjoy as always!

Mesut darts around Sergio, weaves around Fabio and whoosh. That’s all Mesut, Iker begrudgingly claps Mesut on the back.

Mesut bites is lip and smiles sheepishly.

The team lets out a precursory groan before Cris bursts into applause and enthusiastically yells his support. Mesut rolls his eyes but blushes nonetheless.

Cris engulfs him into a giant bear hug. “Do you think you might be going somewhat overboard with this?” Mesut asks whilst having his face smooshed against Cris’ chest.

“Not at all, I’m making up for all the douchebaggery by being supportive.”

“I still think you’re going overboard.”

“...nah.”

Sami sidles up to Cris and winks, “oh Mesut, stop complaining, I think Cris is just being encouraging! Perhaps we could all take a leaf out of his book,” he beams ruffling Mesut’s hair.

Before he can retort, Sergio jumps on Mesut and everyone joins the puppy pile.

Cris catches Iker’s eye and they exchange a smile.

 

-

 

Rumours are flying that Ancelotti will be coaching the team. Everyone refuses to bring it up, there’s an unspoken rule that no one brings up Ancelotti with Sergio, whom he made cry when he verbally assaulted him for accidentally let a goal past in last year’s final. The topic is off limits to for Iker too.

 

Fun fact: Iker coincidentally got his first and only red-card for punching a coach during that same game.    

 

Ancelotti hasn’t filled in as coach since, but aside from Mou, viable options are few and far between.

 

Until the position is filled Iker has taken over the role and has requested that he be allowed to call on Mou as an “advisor.”

 

-

 

Cris and Mesut walk to the car park in companionable silence. There’s still a touch of unease, Cris knows there’s still a long way to go to redeem himself but he knows he can, he has to.

 

He moves to open the door for Mesut, like he did for Irina his mind reminds him, but Mesut just rolls his eyes and opens the door himself and sticking his tongue out at Cris. Cris fights the urge to press him against the car and find out what Mesut’s mouth tastes like.

 

-

 

“So, you and Irina huh?” Mesut is looking out the window.

 

“...yeah.”

 

“She’s…” Mesut deliberates for a few moments, “she’s really pretty,” he offers.

 

“Yeah… she is, she uh, she understands me, not always, but most of the time, yeah, we’re great.”

 

Cris watches as Mesut twists towards him in the passenger seat. “You guys seem really great together,” he whispers squeezing Cris’ hand, Cris tries to pretend it doesn’t feel like his heart is being squeezed as well.

 

Cris nods and manages a weak, “thanks.”

 

-

 

Wednesday morning is hectic as he creeps out of his house to attend training.

 

He isn’t expecting to see a smirking Mourinho, his navy “coach” hoodie causes a lump to form in Cris’ throat.

 

Before Cris can greet him, Mou barks out a, “you’re late Ronaldo, don’t think for a second that you aren’t replaceable just like everyone else,” but his eyes are sparkling. “I’m only here until a suitable substitute is found,” he says gruffly wrinkling his nose.

 

“Yes sir,” Cris smiles, his smile says, _“no you’re not, we’re not going to let you go without a fight,”_ and Mou gets it. He nods and Cris jogs over to the changerooms.

 

-

 

“I know I missed you all but I definitely did not miss early Wednesday morning training sessions,” Marcelo whines.

 

Everyone nods noncommittally, this _will_ take some getting to used to again.

 

Cris waves at Mesut, he waves back and yawns, Cris blinks and stares at the way Mesut breathes in and yawns with his whole body.

 

_You’ve got a girlfriend, his mind chastises. Yeah but I can still look and admire, he argues weakly. No you can’t, think of Irina._

 

Cris sighs and moves to pull on his cleats.

 

-

 

After training everyone settles down on the grass to stretch and Iker gives his customary “captain’s speach.” It’s mostly the usual but it’s Iker so everyone listens, Sergio watches Iker with stars in his eyes and Cris feels as though he’s interrupting something really private.

 

He makes a mental note to tease Sergio less but knowing Cris that will only last a day, okay, an hour.

 

-

 

 ***We should seriously do something about I+S*** the note says. Cris looks up to see Mesut raising his eyebrows.

 

Cris grins, ***where’s this 'we' coming from? But yeah i totally agree***

 

Cris can’t help flirting with him, he know she shouldn’t but it’s Mesut, the argument starts and ends with Mesut. Mesut rolls his eyes as he reads the note, Cris is starting to realise Mesut does it with fondness whenever it’s for Cris. For some reason that makes him feel warm inside, makes him feel special.

 

 ***you weirdo*** is all he gets in reply.

 

Just before he can pen a suitably witty response Mr. Beckham snatches the sheets of paper from underneath Cris’ hands. Mesut stiffens and Cris winces.

 

“Do I really want to know what’s on this?”

 

Cris opens his mouth to say, _there’s nothing really that incriminating on it_ but Becks has already start reading it.

 

He smirks, “get on it lads, there’s a betting pool in the staff-room.” The paper is scrunched up and tossed into the bin and the evidence disposed of.

 

This is why everyone chooses geography, because Mr. Beckham, David is fine guys, just David he always reminds them, is awesome. And the girls think he’s dreamy but whatever. He’s not Cris’ type.

 

-

 

As they make their way down the hallway Cris and Mesut discuss the situation as it is.

 

“I think we need to make Iker jealous,” Cris suggests.

Cris knows that Sergio is jealous, and obvious, enough as is. Cris can count at least six of Iker’s past girlfriends that Sergio has scared off by his constant glaring alone. That number is just off the top of Cris’ head.

 

Mesut nods and looks deep in thought.

 

“Maybe I can find one of the guys on the team to-”

 

“I can flirt with him if you want,” Mesut suggests looking into Cris’ eyes and Cris stops.

 

“...You?”

 

“You do realise I’m gay right Cris?”

 

“Yeah, yeah obviously.”

 

Mesut nods and continues walking, “so is that all sorted?”

 

Cris nods dumbly, how exactly do I tell him that *I would rather lodge forks into my eyes whilst being attacked by wild animals than let Mesut flirt with anyone* without saying any of that?

 

“Uh, are you sure, I mean I’m sure the guys wouldn’t mind…”

 

“Eh, it makes more sense for it to be me, I’m new plus I don’t you know, fuck girls Cris. Just keep Iker from ripping my throat out”

 

Cris doesn’t know how to tell him if he was to watch Mesut flirting with someone other than Cris, Iker will be the _least_ of Mesut’s problems.

 

-

  
_The student body is buzzing with the alleged rumour that Mr. Beckham asked to be included in a threesome with Cris and Mesut._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are about to get really interesting haha, get ready for jealous!Iker and Jealous!Cris
> 
> www.letsbeabunchofweirdos.tumblr.com
> 
> Thoughts?
> 
> All feedback is appreciated! :)


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I really have no explanation for this.  
> "Shit gets serious," is as eloquently and succinctly I can describe this chapter.  
> (good luck)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a total mess, however enjoy gratuitous Jealous!Cris and Jealous!Iker.

2 days ago

 

_Don’t punch Sergio. Don’t punch Sergio. Don’t. Punch. Sergio. Don’t. Fucking. Punch. **SERGIO.**_

-

_Don’t punch Mesut. Don’t punch Mesut. Don’t. Punch. Mesut. Don’t. Fucking. Punch. **MESUT.**_

-

 

4 days ago

“Don’t act up but I’m going to flirt and be all over you to make Iker jealous,” Mesut whispers into Sergio’s ear, lips brushing against his ear lobe.

Sergio looks confused, “bu-”

“Don’t you fucking dare, this is for the greater good. The greater good, Sergio, don’t you want Iker? Well, don’t you?”

Sergio does not respond   

"Exactly," Mesut nods slinging an arm around Sergio. Sergio still looks apprehensive but he sees Iker smiling and flirting with some of the senior girls and he clenches his hands into fists and leans his head on Mesut's shoulder. 

"...don't you wish I were Cris?" Sergio can't help but tease.

"Don't make me kiss you, this is already painful enough as it is," Mesut grits his teeth staring straight ahead.

There's a pause and then they burst into laughter.

"Don't worry, this WILL work, I promise."

Mesut gently bops Sergio's head with his own and they smile conspiratorially 

On the other side of the cafeteria Cris takes a deep breath and fights the urge to walk, no run, over to Mesut and Sergio and physically RIP Sergios head off Mesut's shoulder. He instead tries to muster up a surprised expression and taps Iker on the shoulder, "hey, Mesut and Sergio are getting cosy aren't they?" 

Iker whips his head up and his gaze zeroes in on them, Cris isn't too sure but it looks like his right eye twitches.

Cris tries to ignore the (metaphorical) bile rising up his throat and continues, "they make a cute couple don't they?" Mesut and Sergio laugh at something and Sergio whispers in Mesut's ear, Cris is 100% certain his own eye twitches.

Iker mutters a dark, "yeah they do."

The girl is trying in vain to get Iker's attention back but he seems to have completely forgotten about her, his stormy gaze is locked intensely on Sergio. She glares at Sergio and mutters, "fuckin hell, all the good ones, gay or taken."

Cris would say something to her bt he's busy trying to not grab Mesut and show him that he doesn't need anyone other than him, other than Cris.

In that moment Cris and Iker, standing there just watching the objects of their respective affection showing affection to each other, are unified in their mutual jealousy.

 

-

 

Current day

 

Cris cannot take this anymore, having two of his close friends in almost all his classes seemed like a wonderful gift but now seems like an ironic joke. If he has to watch them whisper and cuddle anymore there will be blood spilt.  

He does concede that it Iker also has it pretty bad, he doesn't even know what Sergio and Mesut do in class. All he can do is glare at them at lunch which in turn makes Sergio feel bolder and bolder as he starts getting touchy feely with Mesut. This is _not_ okay with Cris.

Cris and Mesut have also started studying together, it makes Cris smile when Mesut is horrified at Cris study routine. When Mesut worridly suggests they study together Cris can't bring himself to say no (not that he ever considered saying no).

When Mesut casually asks Cris if Irina would like to join them Cris immediately says that she wouldn't, Mesut blinks, "oh, okay, I was just asking."

Cris runs a hand through his hair and laughs nervously, "uh, I mean, we don't really share any classes, you know, not much point." Which isn't _entirely_ untrue.

When they meet up after school Mesut is slightly flushed, he and Sergio just shared Classic Art class and Cris shudders to think of what they got up to.

They quietly get heir books out and there is an awkward silence but then Mesut looks up and smiles at him and Cris can't hold back his answering smile. They lapse into comfortable silence.

Before long their discussing football, they can't help it and they've just come to accept it. 

"Ugh, I don't know, I feel like the team doesn't know me as well, I don't know I feel like I'm not very good compared to everyone else..." Mesut trails off sighing into his chemistry homework.

Cris is shocked, "Mesut, don't ever, _**don't ever**_ say that." Mesut's eyes are wide but Cris isn't thinking properly he's so outraged , "you're just, jesus christ Mesut, you just do things no one else can do and you do them in ways that no one notices but makes the biggest difference. Don't _ever_ say that you are anything but amazing."

Mesut's mouth is open. "Plus everyone _loves_ you." Mesut mouths, _love?_ , more to himself than anything. "Especially Sergio," he finishes sarcastically, (okay fine, he's pouting).

Cris refuses to make eye-contact with Mesut, Mesut just smiles softly, a faint pink still staining his cheeks from Cris' praise. "Don't worry, I still like you more," he assures Cris, quietly, just like how he does everything else.

Cris looks up and _wow, he and Mesut are sitting really close to each other. Wow Mesut's eyes are really brown, not just like dirt or chocolate brown they're so uniquely beautiful and so uniquely **Mesut.**_

Without either of them noticing they've been moving closer, and closer towards each other until Cris can actually count Mesut's eyelashes. Unconsciously Cris brings hand up to shakily cup Mesut's chin and tilt it up, just so. Just so, just so he can... and Mesut is closing his eyes and yes, this feels like a dream. A dream he wants to never wake up from, Cris is moving in and just as his lips are a but millimetres from touching he remembers. This is not a dream and Cris is not allowed to kiss Mesut. He is not allowed to _want_ to kiss Mesut. There is _no_ part of this that is allowed. 

He slowly withdraws his hands slowly, his eyes never leaving Mesut's slowly opening ones. They both watch each other. Cris swallows, Mesut's eyes are excruciatingly understanding but also _wanting._ Cris knows his eyes must be reflecting those same expressions.

Cris breathes out a shaky, "I'm so sorry, that was, that was-"

"No, it's my fault, it's all my fault." And Mesut is clumsily gathering all his things, "I was wrong to think, to think that you could ever," they lock gazes and Cris can't breathe. Mesut looks like he's breaking into so many small pieces and Cris just wants to put him back together but he knows that he'd probably just put them together wrong and end up hurting Mesut even more than obviously already has. 

Mesut throws him one last watery smile, he's crying, Cris' heart feels like it's gone a hundred rounds in a boxing match. Mesut waves, and croaks out a, "see you tomorrow." Mesut is hurting and he's still trying to make Cris feel better.

Cris whispers, "I'm sorry," over and over again to the empty room. 

 

-

 

_The entire school body in conflicted regarding Sergio and Mesut. Whilst everyone is still loyal to Sergio and Iker ('Seriker for FOREVERRR') this mysterious new German student has entranced everyone (male, female alike) and stolen everyone's heart._

_People sagely nod to each other in class, "who could resist [Mesut]?" they ask._

_Iker Casillas has taken to furiously scolding anyone caught gossiping about Sergio and Mesut, Cristiano Ronaldo has also noticeably started scowling at all that do that. However his motivations are not too clear._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes, poor babies eh?  
> I should let you know that thus far I've been updating every 1-3 days but I probably won't update this week (I might squeeze in a little something but I'm not too sure) because I have a test on Wednesday I NEED to actually study for.  
> Anywaysies, I hoped you enjoyed that thoughts?  
> you can contact me at: www.letsbeabunchofweirdos.tumblr.com


	7. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey remember the calm before the storm? Yeah that shits over now.  
> All hell breaks loose.
> 
> (Jealous!Cris and Jealous!Iker also return)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't help myself. Imma blame all of you if I fail my math test.
> 
> (anything in BOLD is a text message)
> 
> Enjoy my lovelies :)

 

They win their first game. Only just. Cris and Mesut are pretty ineffectual but they stubbornly still make stilted passes and assists which only amount to missed opportunities. Luckily Pipita slots in a late goal and keeps the team safe, 1-0.

 

Iker is oddly quiet and only scolds Cris and Mesut half-heartedly. The defence was suffering a massive lack of cohesion so he can’t really bring himself to judge anyone. What was once an almost telepathic bond between Sergio and Iker has disintegrated into a chaotic mess of mixed signals. How ironic. And not at all helpful for the team

 

The team breathes a sigh of relief for the win but does not celebrate.

 

They are however mobbed on the pitch by onlookers who have no such qualms.

 

Carol throws herself into Ricky’s arms and lovingly whispers into his ear.

Clarisse rolls her eyes and refuses to congratulate Marcelo but Cris notices that she doesn’t complain when he wraps her in his hoodie.

Irina grins at him and Cris guiltily admits that she looks supportive and adorable in his jersey. She grabs his hand and pecks him on the cheek, she moves in to repeat the action on his lips but he turns his face away from her, confusion paints her delicate features and Cris feels even more guilty, if that’s possible. He reluctantly presses a chaste kiss to her lips but the confused expression doesn’t leave her face, “sorry babe,” he tries to smile comfortingly, “I was just disappointed with my performance.” She just smiles and shakes her head sadly.

“You’re too hard on yourself Cris.” And Cris has forgotten this, has forgotten that Irina knows him really well, has known him for years. He just shrugs his shoulders.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Sergio and Mesut sitting quietly together, they look to be quietly comforting eachother hands clasped, it appears that detail hasn’t escaped Iker’s notice either. Cris watches Iker storm off in a huff.

Cris notices the way Mesut’s sweaty hair clings to his forehead and curls at the ends. He does not notice the way Irina looks on crestfallen.

 

-

 

***Sergio and I have decided to come out as gay but just friends to the team.***

 

***Do i have your support?***

 

And it’s that doubt in the second text, that need to affirm that Cris does in fact support Mesut, that kills Cris inside but he’s got Irina, he, he can’t. This thing with Mesut, it can only go wrong and Mesut doesn’t deserve that. Mesut can do _so much_ better. Regardless, the thought that he won’t have to watch Mesut _touch_ anyone else soothes his frayed nerves.

 

Cris closes his eyes and watches Irina chat animatedly to an enthralled Pipita and Fabio on the many benefits of moisturising twice after exfoliating (“once for preservation and once for rejuvenation,” Irina counts on her fingers as Pipita and Fabio nod enthusiastically.)

 

 ***Always.*** he texts back.

 

He tucks his mobile into his pocket, holds Iirna’s hand and tries desperately to feign interest in whatever she is discussing and not wish he was with Mesut.

 

-

 

“So yeah, we’re uh, we’re gay,” Mesut clears his throat before announcing, Sergio nods.

“This probably comes as a big shock to all of y-”

“NO SHIT MESUT? YOU’RE GAY?” Marcelo cuts off Sergio.

“DAMN SON, YOU’RE GONNA TURN ALL THE BI-CURIOUS BOYS MESUT!”

“SERIOUSLY?! I HAD NO IDEA!”

"HEY, I'VE GOT A COUSIN WHO'S SINGLE MESUT!"

Sami raises his eyebrows, _wow, no idea eh?_ Mesut just shrugs his shoulders, _they’re spanish?_  he offers by way of explanation. He walks over to Mesut and engulfs him in a hug, “I’m proud of you,” Mesut smiles into Sami’s arm, “thanks,” he says drily as Sami ruffles his hair.

“Um guys, I’m also ga-” Sergio tries to speak up.

“Yeah but we already knew that Sese, what everybody wants to know is how long Mesut has been gay!” Pepe waves his hands, dismissing a frowning Sergio.

Everyone clamours around Mesut and Cris wants to give Mesut distance, plus he’s fairly certain Sami will make sure Mesut is okay. Sami is a good friend to Mesut. Something Cris just _isn’t._

“...So no one has an issue with it?” Mesut asks whilst being simultaneously hugged by Pipita, Angel and Fabio, “ _it_ being defined as my gayness.”

A chorus of, “nope,” “none at all,” “no issues whatsoever,” “hell no,”s erupt from the throng.

Cris realises Iker hasn’t gotten up to congratulate Mesut and he stiffens, _does he have an issue with it?_  Far from it Cris realises,. “Sergio, ser-, Sergio is ga-, gay…” Iker is murmuring to himself.

Cris just pats Iker on the back, “would you feel better if I told you it was painfully obvious to everyone but you?” Iker glares at Cris and he backs off.

 

-

 

Cris dwardles in the locker room and waits for everyone to leave. Mesut must have sensed Cris’ intent so he also takes his time.

When it’s just the two of them left in the room Cris shuffles over to Mesut.

There’s an awkward silence. Mesut looks up at Cris warily, but he’s still _here._  Cris has basically confused and humiliated Cris but still, Mesut is here. With Cris.

“I’m sorry, and I meant everything I said.”

Mesut looks at him questioningly, “which-”

“Both, you are indescribably amazing and I will always support you.”

Cris smiles weakly and walks out of the locker room. As long as Mesut knows that, Cris has done all he can whilst trying not to hurt Mesut.

 

-

 

As he walks into the sunlight he overhears Angel and Pipita whispering, “my money’s on Sami, did you _see_ all that german sexual tension between him and Mesut.”

The muscle in Cris’ jaw jumps and he’s about to unleash on them but before he can a strong arm grabs Cris’ arm.

He looks up and sees Sami.

Cris gulps audibly.

 

-

 

“Break his heart and so help me god, I will break every bone in your body fifteen-times.”

Sami looks into Cris’ eyes. “Mesut is like my baby brother so this is not an empty threat.”

“I, I- I don’t even know what I’m doing myself.”

Sami’s expression softens a fraction, “yeah, I figured, but you came really fucking close to breaking him last week.” Cris’ eyes widen, “yeah, he told me about it Ronaldo.”

“I,” Cris closes his eyes and takes a deep breathe, “I don’t exactly know what I’m feeling for Mesut, but I’m feeling a lot of it, and in extreme intensity,” Cris looks down at his feet, “and it scares the fuck out of me,” Cris whispers. Sami lets out a low whistle.

Sami squeezes Cris’ shoulder comfortingly, “yes you do, and believe it or not I do want you to sort this shit out.” Cris nods in shock. “But remember my warning.”

 

-

 

Sergio has a boyfriend, _didn’t take him long,_ Cris thinks to himself. His name is Alex and he knows nothing about football. Cris predicts Iker will explode by the day ends.

  
-

 

He overestimates, Iker almost punches a freshman caught gossiping within two hours of his finding out.

 

-

 

Cris decides, as team mascot (unofficial of course), it’s his job and speak to Sergio. “So, new boyfriend huh?” he asks sitting down next to Sergio behind the Chemistry building.

Sergio bites his lip, “yeah…”

“You realise Iker almost punched a freshman today? You also realised that he hasn’t punched anyone since, you know...”

Sergio smiles wryly, “I do realise but, but maybe I’m sick of waiting, maybe I’m sick of being Sergio- _hopelessly devoted to Iker_ \- Ramos, maybe I’m sick of being told and teased by everyone that we’re in love when I haven’t properly spoken to him in a week, maybe Alex isn’t Iker but, but he cares about me and tells me I matter to him.” Sergio’s voice has risen from a whisper to an angryy and impassioned cry back to a small, broken whisper.   

Cris is speechless.

“Maybe that’s all I really want from him, to tell me that I matter to him.”

Cris nods, he understands, he really does.

Sergio swallows and tries to smile, Cris gathers him up in a hug tight. Sometimes people forget Sergio was one of Cris’ first friends when he transferred and was a fresh faced middle-schooler at the tender and incredibly vulnerable age of eleven. Sometimes people forget that Sergio (drunkenly) confessed his feelings for Iker to Cris first when they were only fourteen, sometimes people forget that Cris is as fiercely loyal as he is competitive and Cris is _very_ competitive.

“I’m here for you Sese, no matter what,” he murmurs as Sergio starts crying softly.  

Sergio throws Cris a watery smile, “I haven’t even interrogated you about Mesut yet,” Cris groans and Sergio hiccups.

 

-

 

“Hey, uh you’re looking good today.” Mesut looks up in confusion at the Senior blushing down at him, _um his name was Jacob wasn’t it?_

“Thank you?” _wow this boy sure is tall,_  he thinks to himself placing his final two books back into his locker..

“No problem, I uh, went to the game, you, you were really good, like not just good but _really_  good,” the boy, _Jacob_ , blushes furiously.

Mesut bites back a smile, “thank you very much but the whole team was wonderful no?” He watches amused as the boy stumbles over his words.

“Not as good as you,” they’re cut off as some other seniors, presumably his friends, whoop and cheer, “uh yeah, anyway I just wanted to tell you that,” he smile embarrassed. By now the entire student body crammed in the hallway are whooping and cat calling. Mesut ducks his head, _wow, that got really embarrassing really fast._

Mesut opens his mouth to thank him and tell him he’s too kind when Jacob leans down and presses a kiss to his cheek. His jaw drops.

Cris stands in the doorway of his English class and almost drops his books. They make eye-contact, Cris’ eyes convey obvious hurt, and then Cris hastily looks away.

 

-

 

After the crowd disperses Sami ambles over, clearly trying to hold back his laughter, “don’t you fucking dare,” Mesut growls.

“I mean, I was just going to say it’s about time you met a nice boy. Hey! Do I have to give you _the talk_  now?” he says anyway, shiteating grin stretched wide.

“Shut up,” Mesut blushes, eyes darting around to make sure no one else is in the proximity, he was so sure he saw Cris. _Oh god, he needs to explain that, needs to clear things up- Wait, why does he need to clear anything up, he and Cris, they’re just friends, friends who almost made out but friends nonetheless, he doesn’t owe him anything._

“D-did you see-”

“Cris left, he arrived sometime before the cat-calling and some time after the kiss,” Sami supplies.

“It was just on the cheek.”

“I don’t think it’s _that_ detail that’s bothering him Mes.”

“...training?” Mesut offers weakly after a pause.

“Training,” Sami confirms squeezing his shoulder.

 _One battle at a time_  Mesut thinks to himself as he grabs his cleats.

 

-

 

Pepe comes up to Mesut as he’s stretching and apologises, Mesut doesn’t understand why he’s apologising and asks for clarification. He winces and tells him he accidentally let it slip to a few senior girls that he and Sergio were gay but not dating, Mesut says he doesn’t mind. It’s not like he thought he could take this to the grave. Pepe, however is shaking his head and wincing again, “it’s just, this training session, just good luck and I’m sorry.”

Now the apology is starting to make some sense Mesut thinks wryly to himself as Cris yells at a wide-eyed Pipita for… passing to Mesut?

Okay, remember how Mesut said Iker had, within him, enough fury to terrify an army? No? Well he said that, it may have been when Iker looked lke he wanted to skin Mesut alive for hugging Sergio. Ah well, anyway, now it would seem Cris has been hiding within _him_ enough fury to rival Iker’s.

So far Cris can cross off about half the team from his imaginary hit-list. Mesut makes eye-contact with Kaka who shrugs his shoulders. Mesut sighs and taps Cris on the shoulder, better he clear things up than anyone else get their head bitten off trying. Cris whips around and stares at Mesut, “Maybe, you should um, cool off a little, I know my pass wasn’t very good,” the whole squad facepalms, “but I’m trying really hard here Cris.”

Cris grabs Mesut’s arm, “I’m not angry at your passing Mesut,” he snarls, “I’m angry you’re passing to, talking to, laughing with and ki- hanging out with… _people other than me._ ” Mesut backs off and yanks his arm from out of Cris’ grip.

He looks over to Iker, who is currently engaged in a staring contest with Sergio, “captain? I think this training session is over,” he says, voice shaking.

“So do I,” Iker murmurs back, never breaking eye-contact with Sergio.  

 

-

 

Before he gets inside the changing rooms Mesut looks up and sees the girls watching from the bleachers, their faces are all shocked. Carol has a hand clasped over her mouth, Clarisse's eyes are wide and her face is pale. Mesut cringes and suddenly Irina is looking at him, she doesn’t look angry but she looks like she has had her worst fears confirmed. She smiles sadly at Mesut and he feels like he wants to throw up.

 

-

 

Needless to say they lose their next game. Badly. Mesut can’t even go into detail about it. It’s all a nightmare. It has to be. He hasn't spoken to Cris for almost a week now. 

 

-

  
_The rumour mill has wisely stayed quiet though rumours arise of trouble in paradise. No one however, has the heart to snoop._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? I'M SORRY IT'S SAD BUT I HAD TO.  
> aLSO EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED CRIS AND IKER GIVE ME LIFE.  
> Back to study for meee  
> (Oh and if anyone is interested in being a spelling checker drop me a message at my tumblr: www.letsbeabunchofweirdos.tumblr.com feel free to send feedback, suggestions or just talk to me there too!)
> 
> All comments and kudos so far have been so greatly appreciated, I don''t think I've mentioned how much I love each and every one of youuuu! <3


	8. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Irina is The BAMF.  
> They also have the "It's About F*cking Time" party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I have no words, this chapter is soooo looonggg haha.  
> I finished my math test and I think I did alright (maybe, i hope so, probably not), and I would like to dedicate this chapter to the AMAZINGLY AWESOME AND NICE Laynne.  
> Enjoy this chapter, I really, REALLY enjoyed writing it ;)  
> Every thing *BOLD* is a text  
> Also language gets a little colourful and some mature-ish themes, so I've changed the rating accordingly!

It’s almost as if the loss gave the team a jolt of reality, everyone starts training with a vengeance, the brutal and crushing loss ever present in everyone's minds. Mou works them hard, partly because he has high expectations but also because he knows that the boys have not been delivering what they are capable of. He understands the team in that way. He knows how great they are, and can be. Cris loses count of how many times he has to physically put himself into bed at night, he’s so _exhausted_.

 

-

 

What with the extra training Cris and Mesut have resumed studying together, it’s a wonder they haven’t failed a single subject. Now they sit on opposite sides of the table though. It seemed like a natural decision to prevent something, anything, happening again. Cris struggles through an english essay and looks up to see Mesut bopping his head along to his music a small smile tugging on the corners of his lips. In that moment Cris’ wants Mesut so much. Not so much in a sexual way but just in general. He wants to hug him to his chest, he wants him to lay his head on Cris’ shoulder when he’s tired, he wants to kiss Mesut, wants to _have_  Mesut and to hold him and never let him go.

It hits him like a tonne of bricks how much he wants Mesut and how he’s doomed to never have him, how he’s _not allowed_. Cris swallows, Mesut sensing his gaze look sup questioningly, he pulls one earbud out of his ear, “you alright Cris?”

Cris forces himself to smile, “yeah, just, english you know...” he trails off.

They remain staring at eachother for a few moments, _Mesut is kind of beautiful_.

“yeah,” Mesut finally responds.

“Hey, am  I interrupting some hardcore studying?” Irina jokingly asks popping her head into the room. She smiles warmly at Cris and Mesut. Mesut smiles back, the way Irina looks at him with genuine fondness and warmth always surprises him. He understands what the whole school, what Cris, sees in her. She seems to glow with the brightness and vibrancy that’s almost blinding. He realises Cris is watching him and looks up to see Cris smiling softly at him and then Irina clears her throat softly, “Cris?” she asks. Her smile falters and Mesut doesn’t know why but he feels responsible.

Cris scrambles up and haphazardly shoves books and stationary into his bag. “Uh, see you Mesut, tomorrow, same time?”

“Sure thing,” Mesut nods biting his lip, “bye Cris, bye Irina,” he adds with a little wave to them. Cris places his hand on her waist and Mesut feels his throat constrict. Sometimes Mesut wishes it were him and not Irina who Cris was with, he’s sure he could make Cris smile, make him happy, love him unconditionally and isn’t that all that matters?

But Irina is beautiful, Irina smiles and the whole world smiles back in awe, Irina could charm apples off trees and fish out of water, Irina is the smartest and prettiest girl in school. Mesut is just _Mesut._

 

-

 

Cris can’t stop apologising for making Irina wait on the short walk to his car. “I’m sorry, my english essay was giving me so much trouble. I hope you’re not angry, I’ll make this up. How about we go out for dinner? There’s that new italian place you were talking about, last week I think?” he rambles as they reach the car.

“Cris,” she stops him abruptly, “you’re one of the strongest guys in the school,” Cris nods unsure of where she’s going with this, _he is quite strong_. She bites her lip and keeps looking ahead, not looking at Cris, “you’re one of the strongest guys I know but right now,” she blinks and he realises she’s crying. He reaches out to hug her but she shakes her head, “but right now I need to be strong enough for both of us,” she turns to face him and she’s smiling, it’s a sad smile, her eyes are sparkling with tears and she’s looking at him with sadness, love, pain and a myriad of other emotions. “Cris, I’m breaking up with you,” she whispers voice hitching halfway through the sentence.

“Why?” he pleads, “I’m sorry I forgot today, I was studying and I’ve been so tired these past few days, we’re training so hard and I-”

Irina grasps his hand, “it’s not that Cris and you know it,” Cris hangs his head and _huh, he’s crying as well_ , tears dripping down his face. “I don’t know who to be if I’m not with you,” he croaks out.

“Neither do I,” Irina is watching him with a sad little smile still gracing her delicate features, “but I know we need this, you don’t love me that way and I don’t love you that way either,” she says simply. “You knew that already didn’t you, before we got back together, you knew,” it’s not a question but at the same time it’s not an accusation, it’s just a fact. Cris nods tiredly.

“Just,” Irina bites her lip, “just promise me you won’t forget all about me.” Cris engulfs her in a hug, “I couldn’t if I tried.”

“And also,” she pulls away and grips his hand, “promise me you’ll be brave and open your heart to _love,_ ” she nods over to the rooms they just left, the rooms where Mesut still is, “real love.”

Cris opens his mouth to object but Irina cuts him off, “Cris don’t lie to me, I’ve known you for too long for you to underestimate me, just promise me you will.” Cris watches Irina with painful fondness and love, _a different love, a love that makes so much more sense now,_ “you’re one in a million Irina Shayk,” she smiles back at him, green eyes still sparkling, “I promise you I’ll,” he glances quickly at the building, “I promise I’ll be brave.”

 

-

 

The school is abuzz with rumours of a Cris/ Irina break up. Irina laughingly returning and forcing Cris back into his hoodie, simultaneously messing up his hair, both confirms the news and reminds everyone that perhaps the relationship has not disappeared but rather changed in nature.

Many note that there appears to be a touch of finality this time, the way Cris and Irina hug now more closely resembles a hug between a brother and a sister.

 

-

 

Mesut watches Cris bouncing around the pitch, joking around with anyone around him, he looks like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, Mesut notes. He looks positively buoyant. Mesut finds that his mouth has involuntarily curved into a smile, when his happiness became directly interlinked to someone else’s Mesut has no idea, and it _terrifies_  him.

Spring is almost here, the weather is warming up. He lifts the corner of his top to wipe some sweat from his forehead. To his surprise he hears catcalls from the bleachers, he looks up to see the girls whooping and whistling. Clarisse feigns unconsciousness and Carol fans her face, Mesut rolls his eyes, “got yourself a bit of a fanclub there?” Xabi materialises beside Mesut smirking, he waves at the girls who who feign another wave of fainting spells. They laugh together. Xabi pats Mesut on the shoulder and jogs off to talk to Iker. It’s nice, this feeling, this feeling of having so many brothers and, Mesut admits to himself as the girls wink to him, sisters as well.

He looks up again and Irina is staring at him, her greens eyes are analytical and Mesut feels as if she’s trying to see into him. He looks away and his gaze locks onto Cris’ unreadable expression Mesut wants to look away immediately, his ex-girlfriend is _right_  there but he can’t quite look away from Cris’ eyes. They’re this interesting blend of brown and they’re brave, and loving and unexpected and surprising and everything mesut wants in life and… and Mesut isn’t talking about Cris’ eyes anymore. Suddenly he feels bare, he feels so vulnerable. Mesut tears his gaze away from Cris’ and stumbles over to where Sami and and Angel are chatting away. He feels Irina’s gaze on him the whole way.

 

-

 

“You know he just hasn’t really realised it yet, right?”  Irina muses leaning against the doorway, looking like she belongs more on the glossy pages of a magazine than in a high-school locker-room. Mesut just opens and closes his mouth, he laughs nervously, “n-no he doesn’t. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Irina throws her head back and laughs, Mesut frowns in confusion. “Honey,” she sits down on the bench next to him and leans in, “I didn’t say who I was talking about.” Mesut blushes, Irina laughs again. She scrutinizes Mesut for a few seconds and bursts into a toothy grin, “I get what he sees in you she winks,” Mesut blushes an even deeper red, “it doesn’t get much cuter than Mesut Ozil does it?” she murmurs.

“Uh, y-you’re mistaken, Cris and I, Cris and I are just friends. That’s all, you’ve got it all wrong,” Mesut stumbles over his words in a rush to reassure that he does not, **_does not_** , have any feelings for _Cris._

Irina’s eyes widen in horror, “I-I was talking about Jacob,” she stutters. Mesut’s jaw drops, **_fuck._**

Irina bursts into tinkling laughter and Mesut thinks he’s going to pass out, he doesn’t know what’s going on. Irina is doubled over, hands covering her mouth as she laughs at Mesut’s horrified face. “I was joking,” she wheezes out. Mesut thinks he sees genuine tears of mirth.

When she calms down she reasses him, “Cris is in love with you Mesut, he may not have realised it yet but people around him, people who love him have and it’s not long before he does too.” She flicks her hair and Mesut is terrified. “I may not be his girlfriend anymore but I assure you if you are leading him on I will skin you alive and hang you out with my underwear to dry,” Irina narrows her eyes.

Mesut gulps, “but I don’t have feelings for him,” he tries meekly.

Irina smiles softly, “honey, you’re not fooling me, are you even fooling yourself?” she asks raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe, just, _maybe,_  maybe I do like him a little… a little more than I know I should,” Mesut’s voice is nothing more than a quiet whisper.

“Thank you,” she says quietly as well, “I’ll let you get changed,” Irina straightens up and moves to leave but she stops, “I’ll tell you what I told him,” she adds as an afterthought, “be brave, open your heart to love,” she winks before striding out, strappy heels clicking in the silence.

 

-

 

They win their next game 3-0

When Cris looks around after the final whistle blows all he sees are relieved faces. Before he knows it he has an armful of Mesut. Cris scored twice and all thanks to a _magical_  Mesut. A fearless Mesut. “We did it,” he breathes elated. Mesut’s grin is the most beautiful thing Cris has ever seen.

He hugs Mesut and this, this is as close as he’ll get to _having_  Mesut because Mesut is special, Mesut is breathtaking, because he is unworthy of him. But this, holding Mesut in his arms for even just a few moments, this is enough, this can be enough. It has to be.

Angel claps him on his shoulder and he’s also beaming from his own goal, moments later Cris finds himself on the bottom of a team puppy pile.

 

-

 

Sergio opts to celebrate the win with Alex. Iker drinks himself silly at the after party. Cris and Xabi haul an emotional and drunk Iker into a spare room, “I-I love him, I looooove him, do you loove him?” he warbles.

"Sure thing Casillas, sure thing, “ Xabi grunts heaving Iker onto the bed.

“Well too bad, he’s **_mine_** , always has been, always,” Iker hiccups, “always will be,” he pouts.

Cris and Xabi exchange a look, “alright, thanks Captain, you did us proud today, not so much _right now_ but earlier today definitely,” Cris hastily amends tucking a nodding Iker into bed.

 

-

 

It happens a week later. Cris is watching Jacob talking to Mesut by his locker and picturing different ways he could kill Jacob. He’s now going through ideas of how and where he would hide the body.

Jacob tucks a wayward strand of Mesut’s hair behind his ear and Cris sees red. He doesn’t even notice Fabio trying to engage in a conversation with him, “I’m going to tear him a new one,” he grits out, eyes narrowed.

“Uh, what?” Fabio looks worried.

Cris is startled out of his pleasant if not slightly morbid daydreams, “Uh I should get him a new one, like a headband, god his hair’s getting long,” he finishes lamely.

Before Fabio can respond, Sergio storms out of the mens bathroom lip quivering. Sergio sobs and takes off at a run.

 

-

 

Basically everyone tries to text him.

 

Marcelo: ***u alright? Always here 4 u man.***

 

Sami: ***We’re all looking for you please tell us where you are.***

Xabi: ***iker has ditched his last two classes to look for you.***

Pepe: ***Ramos, we need 2 find u and hug u NOW***

Kaka: ***Everyone is worried brother, come back to us please.***

 

Mesut: ***Sergio, please let us be there for you.***

 

Cris: * **Sese.***

 

Sergio receives 48 texts in total, 20 alone are from Iker.

 

Sergio > Cris: ***he cheated on me.***

 

-

  
Cris finds Sergio sitting mute in a corner of the library. A few open volumes of encyclopedia’s are scattered around him, Sergio hears Cris approach but doesn’t acknowledge him. “It’s funny isn't it," he murmurs softly, "how you can know so much and not know that someone cares so little for you." His voice wavers.

Cris doesn't say anything but he scoops up Sergio into a tight hug as he begins to cry softly to himself. 

 

-

 

"I'm fine guys, seriously," Sergio repeats for the thousandth time as the everyone clamours around him to hug him. Iker sits next to him, posture rigid, his arm has not left Sergio's shoulder for a whole half an hour. 

"Why did you go, Sese?" Marcelo asks clinging to Sergio.

"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to," Iker whispers into Sergio's ear.

"N-no it's fine, you guys are, are my family, I should tell you," Sergio looks down at his hands. "Um, me and Alex, uh Alex and I are, are no longer together."

Ikers arm squeezes Sergio's shoulder comfortingly, "you were too god for him, I didn't like him that much anyway," Iker murmurs, Sergio smiles sadly.

"Well it worked out for both of us then, I caught him blowing some blonde guy," Sergio bites his lip.

Everyone gasps and Iker's grip on Sergio's shoulders is excruciatingly tight. Everyone immediately embraces Sergio, "how could he?" "what an idiot," "Iker's right, you're too good for him," "eh he was ugly anyway," "you can do so much better."

Iker stands up without warning, face furious. He begins walking into the hallway.

Everyone rushes to follow him.

 

-

 

"You piece of complete shit," Iker snarls as his fist connects with Alex's nose. "Sergio is far too fucking good for _scum_ like you," everyone is in silent shock. "If I were lucky enough to have Sergio I would worship the ground he walked on you ignorant arsehole," Alex is flung into the locker bay as Iker breathes heavily. "Don't ever go fucking near him again."

"Maybe you should uh,  intervene?" Cris nudges Sergio. He looks unsure, "trust me, we may get _our_ noses broken but you would probably just get laid," Cris offers. Sergio rolls his eyes but tentatively makes his way towards Iker. He places a hand on his forearm and gently pulls Iker away from Alex, not before glaring at Alex's crumpled figure.

 

-

 

Apparently Iker will be suspended for three days, it helps that he _accidentally_ let it slip that Alex was giving head on school premises. It also helps that he's everyone, _everyone's_ favourite, he's captain of the mighty football team and just generally saint-like. One outburst can easily be overlooked but unfortunately cannot go unpunished.  

 

-

 

Training is cancelled because the team needs to recover from the trauma of finding Iker and Sergio making out in the locker-room. In actual fact they all go to to Xabi's house and celebrate. The unofficial name of the party is called the "It's About Fucking Time" party.

 

-

 

_Everyone seems to have attended some variation of that party. Almost all the students come to school hungover but in great spirits._

_Surprisingly quite a few of the teachers also look a little worse for wear._

_A few of the senior girls have even made "Seriker 4ever" t-shirts. An anonymous buyer: KingRon has purchased 100 of these t-shirts and they appeared to have been distributed amongst  the students_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone else having their own "It's About F*cking Time" party? You're all welcome ;)
> 
> Thoughts?
> 
> as always feel free to befriend me: www.letsbeabunchofweirdostumblr.com


	9. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything comes together and unexpected parts fall apart again.
> 
> Cris and Mesut are not the sun and moon.
> 
> The return of in-class note passing.
> 
> Bad news is delivered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise in advance, it will make sense.  
> This chapter is angsty and just, be prepared to Cris/Mesut to shatter your heart into pieces.   
> (I realised there's only like 2-4 chapters left depending on a few things)  
> You have been warned.

_(Flashback)_

_Sergio slowly approaches Iker. His back is turned to Sergio but his breathing changes slightly, his shoulders tense up a little, which lets Sergio know that Iker is aware of his presence._

_“Iker, you,...” Sergio trails off softly, “you didn’t have to do that.”_

_“Yes I did,” he grinds out, back still facing Sergio._

_Sergio smiles hesitantly, “thank you then...for, for being a good friend.”_

_Iker chokes out some laughter, he turns around to face Sergio and he looks slightly crazy. He’s shaking his head in astonishment. Sergio looks at him, it's odd he decides, being unable to read Iker._

_“Are you oka-” before Sergio can finish his sentence Iker has him pressed up against a locker. “I didn’t do it because we’re friends, I did it because I’m in love with you and seeing you with Alex, seeing you with anyone who isn’t **me**  not to mention someone who doesn’t come close to deserving you makes me feel **physically sick.”**_

_Sergio’s mouth is open and he blinks. Iker ignores him and continues, “Sese, was it obvious to everyone but the two of us?” he doesn’t let him respond, he doesn’t need to, Sergio's silence says it all. “I’ve been a fool,” he chokes out. Sergio swallows, he doesn’t deny it. Iker grips Sergio’s shaking hands and presses his face into his neck, “I, I am not worthy Sergio, but please, forgive me, I have been so **so**  blind,” he looks up at Sergio, “I have made you wait, I have, made you cry, all because I was ignorant and slow to **understand** ," Iker looks up at Sergio mournfully, “forgive me Sese? I understand now, I see now, you don't need to wait any longer, love you.”_

_Sergio gasps, his shaking fingers pulls Iker up, “always Iker, always,” his eyes are shining and so are Iker’s. Iker’s smile is so wide and Sergo is smiling as well, they're both smiling and **the wait is over** , everything is crystal clear. Iker brings his hands up to bracket Sergio’s face to his and gently presses his lips to Sergio’s. Unsurprisingly Sergio offers no resistance and slowly brings his hands up to rest on the back of Iker’s neck and then he pulls him even closer, Iker presses his body into Sergio’s and it feels like they’re molded together, like there is only molten lava between them, connecting their bodies. The back of Sergio’s head hits the locker and Iker presses hungry kisses up Sergio’s neck. He grins when Sergio shivers and kisses him again when he moans, Iker’s tongue forcefully explores his mouth and Sergio melts into Iker’s arms._

_When they pull apart they’re both panting, Sergio blushes, so does Iker. Iker recovers first and kisses Sergio once again but it’s much slower, and leaves Sergio breathless once again, he places his hands on each side of Sergio’s face and Sergio responds by bringing his hands up to hold his hands in place. Iker smiles into the kiss._

_“Hey guys, where did Iker and Sergio go-” they turn to see Pepe watching them wide eyes, before they can process what’s going on the rest of the team also walk into the locker room._

_“Hey, here they a- WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!?”_

_Sergio rests his head on Ikers shoulder and laughs softly to himself as they all dart out the room._

 

-

 

“I kind of miss when Iker was oblivious and Sergio was just pining,” Marcelo comments as he watches Iker and Sergio make out at the lunch table, Sergio residing on Iker’s lap like it’s a throne. It kind of is and everyone knows it.

“Dude you don’t get to say that, you’re the one that cried at the celebratory party,” Cris raises his brow.

Marcelo scowls, “sorry for feeling overcome with emotion over the fact that two of my best friends have finally gotten their shit together and realised they’re in love,” Marcelo’s voice cracks.

“You cried like four times though,” Mesut adds quietly, “I counted.”

“Shut up Mesut!”

“Hey leave him alone!”

“Oh of course you’re gonna defend Mesut!”

“I actually think he lowballed you ‘Celo, I counted 6,” Clarisse chimes in before taking a bite of her apple. Marcelo looks at Mesut.

“Okay, yeah, four is a few short of the actual number,” Mesut admits.

“Aw thanks Mesut,” Marcelo exclaims engulfing Mesut into a bear hug, “you’re the best man.”

Clarisse and Cristiano roll their eyes.

On the other side of the table Iker strokes Sergios face and they kiss passionately, Sergio rests his hands on Iker’s shoulders and Iker presses a kiss to his forehead. Sergio honest-to-god giggles and whispers something into Iker’s lips causing the senior to break into a grin.

Everyone watches in silence. To be fair, sometimes when you've wanted something for _so long_  and you actually get what you originally wanted it can come as quite a shock.

“I think they’re even sappier than we are,” Carol whispers into Ricky’s ear.

Xabi sniffles, “just like Stelena,” he sobs. Everyone at the table facepalms.

Iker and Sergio ignore them.

 

-

 

5-0

They beat the opposition 5-0. It has all paid off. Early morning, late nights, angry Mou, yelling Mou, uncompromising Mou. “Not good enough,” “why didn’t you pass,” “why _did_  you pass?” 

It’s all finally paid off.  

Unconsciously the first thing Cris does when the whistle blows is search for Mesut, luckily for him Mesut seems to have been doing the exact same. Then he’s got anarmful of Mesut, “we did it, we did it, we did it!” Mesut cannot contain his excitement, his shock. The look they exchange reflects mutual pride and dazed happiness. Mesut all but throws himself into Cris’ arms and he smells like sweat, determination and _'finally'_. Cris hugs Mesut so tightly, he knows he’ll have to let go but some part of his mind is telling him that he holds Mesut tightly enough he won’t have to let go. Mesut’s body is so different from his, it’s small and compact, much like Mesut, so much talent and ingenuity compacted into such a small body, but he’s also graceful and strong in ways Cris’ body isn’t, and never will be. He can’t fool himself for too long and when Mesut withdraws away from him. Mesut is breathing heavily and his eyes look slightly glazed over, Cris is also panting, he fought hard, they all did. He notices Mesut’s gaze on his lips and Cris can’t breathe, Mesut moves towards him and brings a hand to Cris’ neck and tugs him forward. He’s frozen on the spot, Cris knows this is such a bad idea but he physically cannot bring himself to stop him, he know show selfish it is but he doesn’t dwell on it because Mesut’s little tongue darts out to lick his lips. Cris, impatient, leans in and before he can make the best and worst decision ever he hears a roar of the cheering crowd and he and Mesut spring apart.  

Cris looks up to see Sergio and Iker kissing up against the goal post. Sergio’s legs are wrapped around Iker’s waist and Iker is nipping at Sergio’s lips. Almost everyone has their phone out. Cris takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair, when he looks up again Mesut is gone. Cris settles down on the pitch and reassess his life decisions.

 

-

 

Mesut is going to pretend absolutely nothing happened. _No it’s fine, this logic is good, if he can pretend he didn’t try to kiss one of his closest friends it’s almost like it didn’t happen right? Yes it is._ Mesut plasters on a fake smile and waves at Cris who looks at him confused but waves back because he may be many things but Cristiano is kind and has a good heart. Mesut watches Cristiano and understands why people write long books and emotional songs about love and unrequited love because it’s almost poetic isn’t it? You go through life unaware and offhand about love and yet when you do find it, _f_ _ind him,_  you cannot have him, you cannot have him because he does not love you. Becuase you will always be doomed to love more than you are loved. It's ironic.

Yes Irina told him he, he had feelings for Mesut but who is she kidding. Mesut is plain and odd at the same time. Mesut will never light up a room like Irina, bring out the protective nature in others like Sergio, be honest and true of heart like Carol and Ricky,  make everyone around him laugh and smile like Marcelo and Pepe, intimidate others with fire like Clarisse’s, command respect like Iker. He’ll never be as talented and _genuine_  and _l_ _oved_  like Cris. Mesut will never measure up but if he can bask in the radiance of Cris’ brilliance for even just a brief while Mesut can be satisfied.

Mesut knows he will always be a sub-par friend and forgotten in the next instant.

 

-

 

“I don’t know, I feel like I don’t really matter to the team… you know?” Mesut remarks casually tapping his fingers on his notebooks, they’re walking to lunch from geography.

“Mesut, we’ve been over this, you’re so far beyond amazing that you’re in a different world to amazing you’re, you’re the fucking sun.

“No I’m not Cris.”

“Yes you are, you’re, you know what you are Mest? You're the sun, you’re bright and you bring light and warmth and life to all things around you.”

“If anything you’re the sun Cris, you’re the bright one. You’re the star of the football team, everyone loves you and whenever you mention the name Cristiano Ronaldo the school will cheer. I am the moon, I am boring and exist in the dark. No one watches the moon, no one cares about the moon. You are the sun.”

Cris laughs bitterly at that and Mesut looks at him.

“I,” more bitter laughter, “I’m just an outline Mesut, I have nothing of mine _inside_ , the only thing that is mine is the outline and even then people all see it differently, people fill in the outlines with the shapes and colours they want there but they don’t realise that there was nothing filling in the gaps to begin with.”

Mesut stops in his tracks. Cris ignores him and continues, vicious smile painting his features, “My colours, my shapes have been chosen, predetermined, but I’m going to win all the trophies, I’m going to kiss all pretty girls, I’m going to score the most goals and maybe then I can control which outline people see.” Cris stares straight ahead, "I am nothing and I am also every insignificant thing all at once."

Mesut grips Cris’ hand, he’s horrified. He. he can’t, he’s not allowed to… to not realise how amazing, how _loved_  he is, how he changes lives. How he’s changed Mesut’s. “Cris, you are the sun, the moon, the planets, the people, the trees, the animals, no that’s not right, no,” Cris looks up wearily, “no,” Mesut repeats softly. “You’re the oxygen, people need you to survive and sometimes they forget you’re there, that you’re,” Mesut’s voice hitches, “you’re keeping them alive, but you are.”

Cris breathes in and out slowly, he closes his eyes and looks like he’s breaking, Mesut’s already broken, he’s already passed this stage, he doesn’t feel the pain anymore. He hears the cracking but doesn’t feel the break. Sami held Mesut when he cried, something tells him no one holds Cris when _he_  cries, no one is _there_ when he cries. That’s because Cris is the one who holds _others_  when they cry, because Cris does not see himself as worth holding. Mesut wants to hold Cris when he cries, Mesut wants to Cris, for better, for worse. He just wants _Cris. He can't lie to himself, it's too hard, it's too tiring. If he admits it to himself at least he can dedicate more energy to lying to the rest of the world._

“How about neither of us are the sun or moon,” Mesut says quietly, “how about we are the stars, we may not always be out but, but at least when we shine, we shine together.” Cris sees Mesut’s hands entwining with his and it’s almost like his whole body feels the warmth of Mesut’s single hand. “Plus,” Mesut adds, “the sun and the moon never meet, and the planets come and go.”

There’s a lump in Cris’ throat, he nods, “okay,” he blinks, his eyes are wet, “okay, we’re the stars.” Mesut doesn’t mention Cris’ tears. But then and again, his eyes aren’t exactly dry either.

Their hands remain entwined for the whole of lunch and no one mentions it. 

 

-

 

 ***I just want you to know that you're my best friend.*** Mesut reads from the slip of paper, he looks up at Cris. Cris is staring at him from across the table. And isn't this what Mesut wanted, to be Cris' friend, to be there for him? But it's not, it's not what Mesut really wants. But Mesut has already admitted that to himself, he doesn;t have to lie to himself anymore, now he just has to lie to everyone else, to _Cris._   

 ***You too.*** Mesut scrawls shakily, vision blurring.

Cris carefully tucks the piece of paper into his pencil case. Mesut can't focus on the class after that.

 

-

 

Mou gathers them together and everyone thinks he's going to congratulate them and celebrate the win. They're not completely wrong. 

Mesut sits next to Cris and nudges him when Mou commends them all on how hard they've worked and how it hasn't escaped his notice how special this team, this family is.  

Mou congratulates all the boys spends a few moments praising everyone individually. Cris knows that Mourinho is not made of stone but this excess of emotion is somewhat baffling. Mou clears his throat and refuses to meet anyone's gaze, Cris notices how Mou's eyes are red-rimmed. The penny drops. The late, out-of-the-blue congratulations, the exorbitant praise. The finality of it all. Cris hastily looks to Iker whose gaze is dark and jaw clenched.

_No._

_No._

_No._

"Boys, they've found a replacement." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry guys but I couldn't bring myself to make a cracky rumour at the end.   
> Shit just got real (I feel like I've said that a couple time lol)  
> Thoughts? (who else wants to cuddle mesut and cris, poor babies) 
> 
> As always, befriend me: www.letsbeabunchofweirdos.tumblr.com


	10. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One battle is won.  
> An ultimatum is offered.   
> Marcelo is the boss at Chem.  
> A Seriker shrine is constructed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this will feel like just "filling" but it was necessary and I tried to make it as interesting as I could.  
> Surprisingly this chapter was one of the most fun to write, I am (clearly) very shit at writing 'football' so I apologise for that, sometimes I just put actions into words and it probably sounds like a mess. So yeah, extreme apologies!  
> I estimate maybe 2-3 more chapters left so... you know get ready for The End. Woo?

The only thing Mou tells the boys before the game is, “make me proud, boys.” Everyone is tensed, Iker glaring angrily at the wall, Fabio and Marcelo look close to tears, Cris, for once, doesn’t know what to say. Wait, maybe he does.

“Don’t accept it as a done deal, old man,” he speaks up, thrusting his chin up challengingly. Iker finally cracks a smile and nods, “we’re not letting you go down without a fight.” The atmosphere of the locker room has changed. It’s defiant, it’s forceful and spine-tinglingly impassioned.

Mou just presses his lips together and Cris wonders to himself when the locker room became his second home and these boys his _family._

“One battle at a time, boys,” he finally mumrus gruffly, voice shaking with emotion. “You’re all fighters and right now," he coughs, "right now I feel like a proud father.” Cris closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

Everyone stands, straightens up and embraces Mou before heading out onto the pitch. Mesut looks into Cris eyes and he sees the same hunger and fire that are, no doubt, also being reflected in his own eyes. They break into grins, “no prisoners,” they nod to each other.

 

-

 

Cris is running and he really should have thought this out, no one is going to pass to him this far out, all he’s doing is wasting his time and energy but then… Mesut. Mesut is also running maybe ten metres behind him, his expression determined and then suddenly he’s slinging one to Cris and Cris knows he just needs to tap it, swift and sharply and, and…. and goal. The crowd’s cheering is drowned out by the deafening silence in his head. And it clicks, he’s scored, he feels Mesut scrabbling to hug him and he clings onto him right back. “No prisoners,” Mesut repeats panting and pressing his forehead to Cris’. Cris nods and waves his hand to the crowd before pointing to Mourinho, the cheering intensifies.

 

-

 

Angel scores three minutes later, shrugs his shoulders modestly before pointing and bowing to a shocked Mou.

 

-

 

Cris slots in another one in the next minute and also points and then bows to Mou. The crowd is starting to catch on and are whooping and have also begun poitning to Mou.

 

-

 

Cris is trying to shake _three_  clingy defenders when Mesut tears past him and just nods to Cris, he just nods and Cris doesn’t even need to think about it and instinctively passes, then the magic begins. The way Mesut evades defenders is somethig Cris could spend hours waxing poetic about, Mesut fakes left, spins around and boots the ball into the left hand corner of the net. No, Cris shakes his head as the cheering becomes deafening, he could wax poetic about Mesut for an infinity and then some. Mesut smiles whilst being crushed by what appears to be the whole team, he smiles and tentatively points both hands at Mou. Mou shakes his head and Cris swears he sees tears in the older man’s eyes.

 

-

 

Eight minutes later Mesut has somehow found the ball again and this is just what he does. He just catches you off guard and before you know it he's in the thick of it. Mesut is a force of nature, albeit an unassuming one, but a force of nature nonetheless. With a handful of defenders surrounding him and no way to shake them off Cris darts out towards goal and Mesut just _gets him,_ gets his thinking,  _on and off the pitch._ He passes to him without any hesitation and takes off at a sprint and this is just too easy. Cris taps it back up to him and Mesut leaps into the air and viola. Head meets ball. 5-0. Mest spins around and bows his head to Mou and directs the crowds hysterical cheering towards him.

 

-

 

Cri should have known Pipita wouldn't have let them have all the fun. Mere moments later Pipita is pursuing goal with a passion, a deadly passion. Those defenders never stood a chance. When the defenders are left straggling behind, the keeper slumped on the pitch and ball where is rightfully belongs, in the net, Pipita falls to his knees and points his index finger at Mou. Mou, who has had to sit down from all the surprise and emotion.  

 

-

 

It started with Cris, of course it was going to end with Cris, Mesut watches Cris in wonder and the acute awareness that perhaps he should be paying less attention to just **_Cris._** Still, even with that knowledge, Mesut still cannot bring himself to tear his gaze from him. He's pure passion, strength and sheer talent. He tears through defenders almost as if he can repel them with a mere look, and then he pauses before the net and smirks, _that smirk,_ and shoots. Mesut lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He can't fight the warmth spreading from his chest when Cris' eyes search for his frist when he turns around. He looks to Mou and just shrugs like a guilty child caught taking a cookie from the cookie jar. Mou just shakes his head and rests his forehead in his hands, he's still sitting down but Mesut can see that his hands are shaking.   

 

-

 

7-0   

 

Cris - '21

Angel - '23

Cris - '28

Mesut - '38

Mesut - '46

Pipita - '51

Cris - '62

 

-

 

The cheering is deafening and Cris listens to the chanting of _“finals, finals, finals,_ ” with Mesut pressed into his side and feels like everything is right with the world. Almost.

 

-

 

On Monday everyone is crammed into the chemistry classroom. Lot’s of the seniors are sitting in on class and are also perched on tables. Iker has an arm slung around the back of Sergio’s chair.

No one is going to let Mou go without a bloody fight.

When Mou does walk into the room and he does a double take, he then quickly schools his expression into one of mild exasperation but undeniable fondness. No one is bothering to hide their cheeky grins, when Mou clears his throat to speak it feels like a parent getting ready to scold their naughty, scheming children. Which in all fairness is pretty much exactly what is happening.  “Alright class, looks like we have a few more students than I anticipated, seems some familiar faces have also dropped in,” Mou nods to Iker, Xabi, Kaka and few others, pauses, shakes his head and also grins, “Viera, care to, very eloquently, bring everyone up to speed on chemistry?”

Marcelo beams and replies, “atoms, sir, everything is made up of atoms,” everyone cracks up and even Mou snorts.

 

-

 

Sadly the protest (slash party) doesn’t last too long, within thirty minutes Principal Rodriguez has pulled Mou out of the classroom to have a “chat.” Mou nods to the class, “I guess I’ll be back,” the double meaning is not lost on anyone.

As outside voices get louder and louder everyone in the classroom silently freaks out. Clarisse and Irina appear to be whispering, heads bent together, whilst also biting their fingernails. Carol (sitting on Ricky’s lap) is caressing Ricky’s face and whispering what Cris assumes are reassurances. Sergio is nestled into Iker’s side and they appear to be having a semi-telepathic conversation which results in Sergio pressing lips to Iker’s neck and everyone in the room quietly ‘aw’ing, Xabi dabs at his eye but his back is still ramrod staright. Pepe and Marcelo are sprawled on the ground and look, for once, serious. Fabio is talking to a blonde girl and looking up at the door every few seconds. Angel and Pipita are on their phones and are probably keeping the rest of the school, not currently crammed into the room, informed of goings ons. Sami has a hand on Mesut’s shoulder and he smiles and squeezes softly, Mesut just shrugs his shoulders and tries to smile. Without thinking Cris reaches across the table and grasps Mesut’s hand, he looks up in surprise.

“Everything will be fine,” Cris tries for a reassuring smile but he probably falls short. Mesut’s answering smile however, makes it all worth it. From the corner of his eye Cris sees Sami watching on with his own warm smile.

“Okay, my young pupils of this fine Academic Establishment,” (Cris can practically hear the capital letters) Principal Rodriguez begins words ringing out, “it appears you have all taken a rather... _hands on_ approach to faculty selection..." Cris feels worried and everyone around him also appear to share that feeling. Will they be punished for their act of defiance? Have they made the situation worse? 

Mou winks at Cris from bbehind Rodriguez and he feels like everything will be fine. 

"...seeing as the whole team is already here, I may as well just tell you now," Rodriguez continues wryly, "I am willing to offer you an ultimatum," his smirks. "Win the final next week and you can...  _keep_ Coach Mourinho."

The classroom erupts into raucous cheers.

Rodriguez motions for silence and everyone pipes down, "if you do not win the final however," the atmosphere grows somber, "I will appoint the coach and no one will complain or protest, is that clear?"

Everyone nods dumbly, "yes sir," Iker counters standing up, "those sound like agreeable terms, seeing as we're planning on winning anyway." Sergio shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly next to him but doesn't hide his giant smile. The class cheers.

Rodriguez just sighs and shakes his head, "all right then, we'll just have to see," Cris has never seen Mou look so proud. "The people not in this chemistry class can now  _go back_ to your actual classes and if I catch you skipping class again I will not be so kind as to provide a warning."

 

-

 

_Rumours arise that intensive training has resumed and anyone who interrupts said training will be lynched by the entire school body and then sacrificed before the game to the 'Football Gods.'_

_-_

_In other news the goal post Sergio and Iker made out against has turned into a bit of a Seriker shrine and many students have paid their respects and left small gifts and offerings by the side. Flowers, chocolates, socks, condoms, hand written poems, paintings and a full bdsm kit (courtesy of Marcelo and Pepe) are but a few examples._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?  
> All feedback, comments, kudos etc are greatly appreciated! :)


	11. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Next stop Angst-Central  
> I'm going to go guilt-cry now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise in advance, more bad football writing, trust me, I'm cringing. I couldn't find the words I wanted :(

Warm sunlight filters in through Cris' curtains, the soft rays caress Cris' gently sleeping form.

Cris slowly wakes up to the jarring sensation of simultaneously wanting to sleep for a thousand years and also jumping up and taking on the world. Or taking on the game later that day. He blinks the sleep out of his eyes, or maybe not. He takes a deep breath and rubs his eyes. Maybe he could sleep for just a little while longer however when he thinks of the game, of what’s at stake, he sits up.  _This isn't the time to feel weak._

 

-

 

Cris has to smile when he sees the omelette and freshly squeezed juice set on the kitchen counter, not to mention the little ‘good luck today darling x’ post-it note . His mother must have gotten up extra early to do all this. The thought makes him stop and as a lump forms in his throat Cris thinks he probably won’t be able to swallow the omelette or juice.

 

-

 

Before he leaves Cris tucks the note into his pocket.

 

-

 

The day passes in a daze, when he arrives at school Irina pounces and squeezes him in her slim arms. “Nervous?” she asks knowingly.

“...you could say that,” he smiles back weakly. Cris sees Mesut gathering his books from his locker, “... yeah, exhausted,” he mutters.

Irina’s green eyes are full of concern, she sighs and without a warning tugs Cris into an empty classroom.

“Wha-”

“What is your deal Cris?” She asks frustratedly, Cris opens his mouth to respond but she dismisses him with a shake of her hands. “You clearly, no Cris don’t give me that face, _clearly_  have feelings for eachother. I am going to ask you this and I want you to be honest with me. What. Is. The. Fucking. Problem?”

Cris swallows, “he could do so much better,” he mumbles staring at his shoes, “he _deserves_  so much better… than me.”

Irina deflates, when Cris looks up she is stood right in front of him, a hand gripping his shoulder, “has it ever occured to you that he _deserves_  a say in this decision you seem to have made for him?”

“But he-”

“Shut up Cris and think about that okay?” she cuts him off but her words lack any bite. She straightens up and smooths out her blue blouse, “get your shit together Ronaldo,” she winks and prepares to leave.

“Why did I ever let you get away Shayk?” he muses out loud.

“Because I am _far_  too amazing for the likes of you,” she replies, not missing a beat, “plus, you know, you’re in love with that cute new german student,” she adds as an afterthought. “I heard he’s single,” she raises her eyebrow jokingly. They both laugh and Irina blows him a kiss before leaving him alone with just his thoughts.

He’s never felt more alone or overwhelmingly bombarded.     

-

 

At lunch a barrier has formed around the football table. No one dares breach the border and those in the vicinity know better than to utter a single word with any relation to football or the finals later that day.

Cris is not eating anything. No one is really eating all that much. Actually that part is a lie, Fabio is inhaling another sandwich that more closely resembles an architectural marvel, his sandwich boasts peanuts, sundried tomatoes and small cocktail sausages today. Cris feels sick. Sergio is feeding Iker french fries, which is cute but makes Cris want to throw up. Sami and Xabi are calmly munching apples which provides some respite however just to their right, Pepe and Marcelo are consuming soft serve cones with sprinkles and Pipita just crunched particularly loudly on a chip. Cris’ left eye twitches and his stomach lurches. Cris is startled out of his nausea by a small bag of various vegetable sticks tentatively being used to nudge him. He looks and sees Mesut holding out his small ziplock bag and a wave of relief washes over him. Mesut smiles kindly when he selects a carrot stick and visibly relaxes as Cris takes a bite. Cris and Mesut quietly finish the vegetable sticks and enjoy each other’s silent but comforting company. Cris even builds up enough strength to eat his chicken salad which he shares with Mesut.

As he takes a swig from his drink bottle Cris sees Irina giving him an encouraging smile, Cris almost chokes on his water and blushes as Mesut watches him inquisitively.

 

-

 

Cris leaves chemistry class feeling tense. Instead of the vital roles of atmospheric gases, his mind was a chaotic jumble of formations. He ambles up to his lockers and scowls when he sees Jacob talking Mesut, one arm casually slung around Mesut’s shoulders. As if he wasn’t frustrated and stressed out enough. Cris subtly glares daggers at them whilst grabbing his gym bag. He slams his locker shut with a bit more force than necessary.

“Hey Mesut! Ready to get changed?” Cris interrupts brightly. He takes a great deal of satisfaction from watching them spring apart. Good thing too, he was _this_  close to snapping Jacob’s arm in half.

“Uh, yeah, yeah sure,” Mesut stumbles over his words, “bye Jacob,” Mesut nods tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.

“”Yeah, see you Mesut, and good luck,” Jacob blushes and Cris grits his teeth. “You’re going to be great, you’re going to annihilate them,”  Mesut turns red. Cris narrows his eyes. “Um you too Cristiano, you’ll probably score like a hundred goals right?” Jacob adds jokingly. It’s so stupid but it’s things like that which make Cris feel like he’s carrying the weight of a whole school on his shoulders. 

“Thanks Jacob,” Cris responds curtly, smile tight. Mesut sees Cris’ discomfort and waves to Jacob and steers Cris towards the doors. The setting sun greet them and they slowly make their way to the locker rooms, “he meant well,” Mesut finally offers.

“I know that, I thanked him didn't I?”

Mesut smiles wryly, “you could _try_  to be nicer.”

“Would you like me to do that before or after the hundred goals?” Cris notes that his voice has taken on a decidedly sarcastic tone.

Mesut sighs, Cris has noticed lot’s of people have been sighing around him lately, he grips both of Cris’ hands in his smaller ones. “I don’t fucking care if you score a hundred goals or not, I don’t care if you score once, twice, three times or not all,” he’s staring into Cris’ eyes and it feels like he’s seeing more than just Cris’ panicky brown eyes. “I’ll still love you even if you’re shitty at football,” he jokes.

“You’re a pretty good friend Mesut,” Cris laughs drily.

Mesut’s smile dims by a fraction, “of course,” he murmurs softly.

Cris and Mesut walk into the locker room side by side in companionable silence. Cris’ mind can’t stop reminding him _he said he loves you, Mesut loves you._  Cris watches Mesut as he jokes with Angel and a voice that sounds an awful lot like Irina reminds him _he **deserves** a say._

 

-

 

“I just, I just want to say thank you to all of you for fighting for and with the team,” Iker announces as they wait. “I couldn’t have asked for a better team and,” he clears his throat, “and a better group of friends.” Everyone is getting teary and even Iker is swiping at his eyes, Sergio, seeing this, rushes into his arms. He gently wipes the tears away from Iker’s face. Cris thinks affectionately of how far they’ve come and how glad he is that two of his closest friends are so in love. “I know there’s a lot resting on this game, I know that we would all rather die than lose but I know,” Iker looks into the determined eyes surrounding him, “I am certain that if we fight with everything we’ve got, everything we’ve always had and always will, we can’t possibly lose.”

Everyone gets up, applause rings out and everyone gets up to ruffle Iker’s hair. He swats at the hands but chuckles. “Look boys, this is Xabi, Kaka and my last game,” Cris hears a few sniffles, Fabio and Marcelo he bets. Ricky and Xabi clap each other on the back, “This is our last game together, so let’s show them what we’re made of,” Iker’s voice is clear, his eyes are sparkling and he’s never looked more like a king, like a king readying his troops before battle, “let’s show them what real winners look like.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself captain,” Mourinho nods, he must have slipped in at some point. “I don’t need to tell you to make me proud, you’ve already surpassed that,” more sniffles, definitely Marcelo and Fabio Cris thinks, “go out today and make yourselves proud.”

Everyone roars and it’s calamity. “Let’s go boys, let’s do this!” Sergio calls out.

Cris pats his pocket where his mother's note is tucked.

 

-

 

It’s the fortieth minute and still no one has scored. Cris’ eyes are trained on the goal. Pipita is dribbling and he’s mere metres from the goals and a tall defender is punting it out, out. Angel has stopped it and passes to Ricky and there’s still a chance, back to Pipita and surely...GOAL! Cris feels a little jealous and he knows he shouldn't, that he's being petty but he can't help still feeling a touch of envy. Stop, no, Pipita is knelt on the ground, his face contorted into astonishment. Cris brings his hands up in confusion _what the actual fuck_  he stopped it. The fucking keeper stopped it. Cris instantly regrets his petty jealousy and breathes out slowly, _this is going to be a long game._

 

-

 

It’s been another twenty minutes of nothing and the crowd is growing thirsty for blood. Cris can’t blame them, it’s not like he’s feeling any different. Mere minutes ago an attempt at goal almost resulted in Iker’s face being kicked in, Sergio had to be physically held back by Xabi and Fabio. His face is still red and it took Iker a feel moments to personally reassure Sergio he was alright.

But then like magic, like the fucking saviour he is, Mesut is sailing down the pitch, Cris sprints ahead and subtly elbows a defender who looks to have his sights set on blocking Mesut. _This is it, this is it._  Cris can taste it, can taste the goal, the victory. Cris spins around just in time to see a leg being thrust out and Mesut crumpling into a small heap.

“No!” he bellows. It’s almost completely silent for a few seconds before everyone loses their  fucking shit. Sami is there in an instant arguing with the ref, it helps that Sami is a full head and a half taller than him. Cris would be there too but he needs to be sure, needs to be 100% certain that Mesut is _okay._  Plus Sami seems to be handling verbally abusing the ref just fine. Shared interests and all.

Cris rushes to Mesut’s side and helps him sit up. He physically pushes people out of his way and used his body to form a barrier between Mesut and what appears to be the whole team crowded around him.   

“Are you okay, are you okay?” he keeps repeating the words hands grasping Mesut’s shoulders, Mesut’s hands are clinging to Cris’ wrists and he takes afew shallow breaths.

“I’m fine,” he tries to smile. Cris lets out a relieved breath and tucks his head into Mesut’s neck. He pats Cris’ head, “I’m okay Cris, I’m okay,” he pauses, “you can relax, I’m fine.”

Cris nods and everyone erupts into cheers as the ref waves a red card.

Sami nods at Cris and jogs over to help Mesut up. Everyone gives him a hug and Cris squeezes him tightly and for a moment longer than necessary.  

 

-

  
  


It’s the seventy second minute and Cris feels useless, feels like all he’s doing is looking to Mesut every other second to make sure he’s alright. Mesut makes eye contact with him, rolls his eyes and sighs, he jogs over to where Cris is standing. “I’m fine you sap, get your head in the game,” he breathes into his ear and jogs away, he shakes his head fondly and Cris can’t help the dumb smile that's found it's way onto his face.

 

-

 

It’s just before the eightieth minute and Cris feels like he’s going to spontaneously combust if no one scores soon, out of nowhere Pipita comes barreling in and Cris knows they’re not going to get another chance. He sprints out and watches Pipita pass smoothly to Mesut who sends it Cris’ way. Inside Cris’ mind it is excruciatingly silent, he leaps into the air and twists his head just so and everyone is holding their breath as ball meets net.

 

-

 

Cris hears a roar and realises it came from his own mouth, _yes. Yes. **YES.**_

Cris falls to his knees and within seconds all the boys are scrabbling to climb on top of him.

It’s calamity as all the students climb over the barrier to join the players on the pitch.

 

-

 

Before he knows what he’s doing Cris is pushing everyone out of the way to get to Mesut. It feels like the air is electric it feels like anything is possible, it makes Cris feel brave. Or maybe it’s just the adrenaline.

Iker and Sergio are kissing in the goals.

But Cris, Cris feels brave, he sees Mesut hugging Sami and he makes a beeline for him. Sami smiles good naturedly and heads in the direction of Pipita, he nudges Cris’ shoulder but Cris doesn’t even notice. He’s standing in front of Mesut and they can’t stop staring at eachother. Everyone around them is currently engaged in some form of enthusiastic and loud celebration. Cris should be doing the same, he should have his arms slung around his teammates, he should be swinging around a beautiful girl, he should be giving Mou hell... and yet… he shouldn’t be but here he is. As always. Stood in front of Mesut and unsure of what to do. As always.

Mesut gives him a lopsided grin and _god_  Cris want’s him _**so**  much._ He’s on cloud nine, he’s won the final, they get to keep Mou and Cris still wants more, wants _Mesut._  He’s so selfish.

He takes a step towards him and Mesut looks so tired but also incredibly happy, Cris wants to hug him and kiss him and tell him how amazing he was today, how amazing he _is_. Cris takes another step towards Mesut and Mesut is buzzing. Cris is so tired, he’s exhausted, physically and just _emotionally._  He’s tired of fighting, he fought all match, surely he can have this one selfish moment. He’s now so close to him, Cris angles his head down and his nose ghosts over Mesut’s cheek. “I’m so tired,” he breathes, Mesut nods his eyes never leaving Cris’ orbs.

“Of what?” Cris’ lips are perilously close to the corner of Mesut’s mouth.

“Of fighting this,” he responds and finally presses his lips into Mesut’s.

Mesut gasps, but Cris just keeps kissing him. Cris consumes Mesut completely and also pours out months of confusion, wanting and love. Love.

 

-

 

Mesut brings his hands up to grip the collar of Cris’ shirt tightly, he lips press insistingly against Cris’ own and they both sigh into the kiss.

Faintly, Mesut can heart cheering increasing in volume, perhaps they should stop. Perhaps Mesut should think about this but Cris’ lips are so _soft_  and Mesut has been hungry for this, for Cris for too long to be able to think about this, to think about anything, rationally.

Cris’ lips feel like they’re burning and imprinting onto Mesut’s and _god that’s poetic isn’t it Mesut thinks to himself, Cris is marking his lips_. Cris is marking Mesut. _But then, no, this, no this is wrong. No._ Mesut pushes him away. **_No._**

 

-

 

Cris looks up at Mesut, Mesut who has pushed him away. “No,” Mesut whispers over and over again. Cris watches as betrayal taints Mesut’s beautiful face, Cris watches in shock as Mesut turns and runs away from him, he shakes his head and follows him.

_He won’t let him go again._

_Not again._   

 

-

 

Mesut is grabbing his bag and haphazardly stuffing his belongings inside, Cris reaches out to stop him and Mesut spins around eyes blazing with accusation.

“What was that?” he spits.

“I-I wanted to-”

“What were you fucking thinking?" Mesut is openly crying now, angry tears rolling down his cheeks as he glares at Cris.

"I just wanted to, to ki-"

"Do you realise what you've been doing to me? What you've done?" Cris opens his mouth, "you've been killing me with, with mixed signals and then," Mesut breathes in and sobs, "and  _you called me your friend_  and, and then you _kiss me,_ and it's so beautiful and perfect and it's everything I've wanted and it's also everything I didn't, you don't get to do that, to fuck with people like that Cris." 

Cris closes his eyes, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

Mesut smiles so sadly, "that's, that's not good enough Cris," he gathers up his bag, "I've been dying inside and you," he looks incredulous, "you just  _let me."_

"I love you." Cris words sound so much louder, so much more significant in the silence of the locker room. It's a plea, a declaration and above all, the truth. 

Mesut gulps, "I," he's full on sobbing now, "I loved you so so  _so much_ and I'm sorry but, this is," he calms down and looks up at Cris, "this is just too late." Mesut stops by the door, "great goal," he chokes out and Cris collapses to his knees for the second time that day but for completely different reasons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All feedback is greatly appreciated :)  
> Oh and if your an emotional mess after this fear not, so the fuck am I.  
> Tip: Don't listen to (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XLTQt3WwQX4) during the last parts of this fic.


	12. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ice melts (by a fraction).  
> Cris makes a public declaration and (pretty much) everyone cries.  
> (me included)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two updates in a day?! YOU'RE ALL BLOODY WELCOME AND THANK THE FACT THAT I HAVE LITERALLY NO SELF CONTROL AT ALLLLLL  
> *BOLD* ARE ALL TEXTS  
> (Feel free to listen to 'Man Who Can't Be Moved' - The Script, whilst reading this chapter if you're a masochistic fool like me)

Cris hasn’t spoken to Mesut in a week. He’s tried _god he’s tried_  but Mesut doesn’t seem to want anything to do with him.

 

Cris: ***I’m sorry please talk to me.***

Cris: ***I meant everything I said.***

Cris:  ***Please stop ignoring me.***

Cris: ***I never wanted to hurt you.***

Cris:  ***I’m sorry.***

 

-

 

At first everyone is too busy celebrating the win to notice that anything is off. They do notice eventually though.

 

-

 

“Please just let me-”

“Let you what Cris?” Mesut rips his hand from Cris’ grip. “Let you hurt me again, let you lead me on only to _humiliate_  and _break_  me _all over again_?”

Cris swallows, everyone in the hallway is watching and whispering now.

“I’m, I-I just miss you.”

Mesut’s expression softens ever so slightly, “it’s...it’s not fair what you’ve done, what you’re _doing_  to me right now,” he blinks and his eyes are so pained and so weary.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Cris blinks away his exhausted tears, “I’m sorry,” he breathes quietly.

“Just, just leave me alone,” Cris nods, “for the time being at least,” Mesut adds smiling weakly. Cris’ head whips up.

“Anything,” he breathes. Mesut nods back awkwardly and walks away.

 

-

 

Sami intercepts him on his way to his locker a few days later. He forcibly pulls Cris to sit down at a bench. They sit staring at eachother for a few moments.

“He just needs time.” Sami doesn’t need to name names or give any specifics, they both know who and what he’s referring to.  

“What if time isn’t enough,” Cris says quietly.

Sami chuckles softly, “then you don’t know Mesut as well as I do.” Cris has to smile at that, “Mesut takes change, takes risks and surprises which are off the pitch badly,” Cris nods, he knows first hand, “he may put on a brave face but he takes you even worse.”

“But I’m just...me,” Cris frowns.

Sami snorts, he leans forward, “you,” he deliberates over his words for a few seconds, “you _a_ _ffect_  him, you affect him in ways I’ve never seen him affected Cris.” Sami leans back and observes Cris, “I won’t say the exact words for him, but, he does, he does feel the same, and he won’t be able to stay away and stay mad for long.”

Cris shakes his head, Sami didn’t see how broken, how tired Mesut looked. “He won’t, he-”

“Don’t argue with me Ronaldo,” Sami cuts in, “I’m just letting you know that Mesut will,” he pauses again, “forgive you, and when you two get your shit together, I want you to remember my warning.” He’s smirking, “fifteen times Ronaldo, I don’t care how valuable you are to the team, break Mesut’s heart and I will break every bone in your body _fifteen times._ ”

Cris remembers how aggressive and protective Sami can be when Mesut is involved, remembers how terrified the ref was when Sami was verbally assaulting him. “Duly noted,” he says holding Sami’s satisfied gaze.

 

-

 

“Hey, is this seat free?” Mesut looks up to see Ricky gesturing to the space next to him. _Okay, fine, Mesut is a coward hiding in the library._  He shrugs and Ricky smiles and settles down. They sit in silence for a few minutes. Mesut wants to mention how he’s happy to sit at a table or something, he sees Ricky’s legs are carefully folded to fit into the little aisle Mesut is currently occupying but he can’t quite summon the energy to verbalise his offer.

“You know when I first met Cristiano I thought he was an arrogant asshole,” Ricky says all of a sudden, they both laugh. “I’m not kidding,” Ricky is grinning goofily now, “I was sure that he was a complete douche, but you know what?”

“He showed his true self and he was nice person with a heart of gold and you all rode unicorns into the sunset,” Mesut supplies sarcastically.

“No he was still an asshole,” this startles a laugh out of Mesut and Ricky joins in, “but more importantly I realised he was a lovable asshole who is as loyal as he is asshole-ish.”  

“Lovable…” Mesut murmurs to himself, “but, but it doesn’t, it can’t excuse everything,” he says biting his lip.

“No,” Ricky agrees, “but I just thought you should know what he hasn’t been sleeping or eating well and we’re all worried.”

Mesut sighs, “and what I should just forgive him of everything and run into his arms and, and everything will magically be alright?”

“That’s unrealistic.”

“No shit Kaka,” Mesut rolls his eyes. He nibbles at his lip and decides to say it, “what if, what if I’m only,” Mesut shrinks into himself, “what if I’m just his flavour of the month?” Mesut refuses to look at Ricky, “what if I’m just temporary, what if I forgive him and everything is fine and then one day he just drops me, I don’t think I can handle that, not again and especially not from Cris.”

Ricky thinks to himself for a few moments, “well first of all, you’re hardly his flavour of the month, he’s wanted you for the whole year,” he says matter of factly. “Also, you should pay more attention, you’re right Cris doesn’t really do long term, or serious, doesn’t really do those things at all.” Ricky smiles at Mesut warmly and Mesut understands yet again why everyone likes him so much, “but the way he talks about you, jesus Mesut, the way he looks at you,” Ricky smiles kindly as Mesut blushes, “that should tell you more than enough.”   

 

-

 

Mesut is sitting next to Cris, he hasn’t said anything but he made the choice to sit next to Cris and this, this means everything to Cris. Cris can’t help watching Mesut, can’t help the affection that must be rolling of him in waves. He looks at him and Mesut looks away. Cris sobers up. Maybe things have changed.

***He’s not sure about your feelings for him.***

***Don’t eff this up.***

***He <3 you.***

Cris raises an eyebrow at Ricky, he doesn't know if it's at the fact that he won’t swear even via text or the fact that Ricky has suddenly turned into a '<3' using _teenage girl._

***I talked to him, trust me, he <3 you.***

Cris presses his lips together and feels a headache coming on.

***He doesss! c:***

Cris rolls his eye at Carol’s text. Of course he told Carol. _Of course._

Still, he takes a deep breath and stands up. Everyone looks up as the legs of his chair scrape against the floor.

“Um, uh hi everyone,” Cris begins awkwardly.

Everyone in the cafeteria calls out, “hi,” “hey,” “sup,” etc.

“I feel like, I uh, I felt like I should tell you all that,” _wow he’s losing his nerve very fast._ “Uh, well basically, I wanted to let everyone know that I am-”

“Smoking hot!” a girl calls out, everyone hoots and there are a few catcalls.

“Uh, yes that I am, but I am also bi, as in bisexual.” The whole cafeteria grows silent. Mesut gasps softly. He’s not alone. Faintly he hears a few guys whoop, _what can he say, he’s doing his bit for the community._

Finally a girl calls out, “so what?”

“Um well I guess I just thought I should share that with everyone,” he turns to face Mesut who has suddenly decided that his sandwich is both fascinating and requires his intense and immediate concentration. “Especially you Mesut,” Mesut looks up shocked, “because I have feelings for you, have had them for a while now. And you know, they don't tell you about this, they don't tell you how fucking terrifying it is, feelings, and how they take over everything and cloud you're judgement ad just manifest themselves into every aspect and facet of your life ” Cris feels like he _may_  be word vomiting but he’s so tired of lying and hiding his feelings so he’s just, he’s just _l_ _etting it flow_. _Flow_ from his slightly bruised and battered heart and out of his mouth for the world and for Mesut to hear. "I had no idea it could ever feel like this."

He sees Irina smiling at him, the delicate tears falling from her eyes look so proud and happy. Iker has his arms around Sergio, Sergio who is sniffling and has Iker nuzzling his neck. Sami has a small smile on his face and he winks at Cris. Marcelo is crying and Clarisse is pointedly ignoring him, her eyes are wide and proud and her smile is too wide for her face (he does noltice their hands are clasped together under the table.) Xabi is clutching a fistful of tissues and Pipita is patting his back whilst also dabbing at his own eyes. Cris almost forgot how much the people around him care. Carol has a hand clasped to her mouth and Ricky is grinning, eyes sparkling. Fabio and Pepe have their mouths open and Angel tentatively closes them whilst throwing Cris a reassuring smile. 

“And... and those feelings aren’t going to change, and if you need me to wait, if I need to regain your trust and everything in between I’ll do it.” Mesut’s eyes look wet, “I’ll do anything,” and it feels like there’s only them in the room and not another few hundred students. Cris feels lightheaded and just shakily sits down again. Everyone bursts into thunderous applause and when it dies down Cris decides to resume eating his apple.

Mesut angles his body so he's not completely facing away from him. He offers Cris a tentative smile.

 

-

 

Mesut: ***You're too damn lovable for your own good.***

Mesut: ***Give me some time.***

 

 

-

 

Ricky: ***He totally <3 you Cris!!!!***

 

Cris: ***Go away Kaka!***

 

Carol: ***He does thooo! >.< ***

Cris: ***YOU TOO CAROL!***

 

-

 

_The rumour circulating the school is that Crozil (Cris/ Mesut duh) are contending Seriker for cutest couple._

_This does not bode well for the numerous shippers. Five students have already been given detentions for brawling in the hallway from the "ship wars."._

_Many speculate that there is a reason why the Crozil shippers were given noticeably shorter detention punishments from Principal Rodriguez._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to let you know, I am the girl who yells out at Cris during his 'coming out.' (yes, both of them, shush)  
> Thoughts?  
> Hint hint: I love comments and feedback :)


	13. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final piece of the puzzle. 
> 
> They fall, they fell (together)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna preface this with the fact that I wrote this all whilst listening to the Boyce Avenue cover of Realize (Colbie Caillait) which I (very) strongly advise you to listen to whilst reading this (it's on youtube and spotify).  
> And you're all very welcome ;) This will all make sense soon  
> You've all hung in for a while so I (being the benevolent and all-knowing ruler) have decided to reward you all.  
> Enjoy! <3

“WOW ISN’T CRISTIANO STRONG AND SMART, NOT TO MENTION VERY ATTRACTIVE!”

“YES, HE IS ALL THOSE THINGS, BUT ESPECIALLY ATTRACTIVE!”

Mesut grits his teeth, he doesn’t know when everyone started getting so invested in his.. lovelife?… can he even call it that? His personal life then. Every time he’s near a group of people they instantly (and very unsubtly he might add) launch into a Cris-praise-fest. Mesut notices that he’s been rolling his eyes a lot more that usual. He throws the two girls an exasperated look and approaches his locker.

“HEY DID YOU SEE CRISTIANO, BOY IS HE LOOKING GOOD TODAY, HEY I HEARD HE’S SINGLE-”

“OKAY CAN EVERYONE PLEASE BACK THE FUCK OFF, I AM AWARE OF HOW FUCKING ATTRACTIVE AND SMART AND FUNNY AND PERFECT CRIS IS AND I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE SOME SPACE THANK YOU VERY MUCH.”

Everyone is speechless at Mesut’s outburst. Sami is biting his lip in a desperate attempt to stifle his laughter. “You’re just such an easy-going and serene person Mes,” he finally chokes out.

“Shut up,” Mesut growls back. He softly bangs his head on the inside of his locker, he feels a cool hand on his shoulder and turns around to come face to face with Irina. He can still hear Sami’s laughter as he walks off. “If you’ve come to tell me how attractive Cris is, ten people have beaten you to it today,” he says tiredly.

Irina just smiles and tugs him into the ladies bathroom without a word.

 

-

 

“Sorry, we need some privacy,” Irina smiles sweetly and the starstruck junior darts out leaving the two alone.

Mesut looks at Irina warily, “you know if we both enter the girls bathroom together people will talk.”

Irina’s tinkling laughter is so indulgent, “trust me honey, no one thinks you’re interested in _me_ ,” she shakes her head. Mesut just sighs, yeah, he figured as much.

“Is this going to be the ‘big sister’ talk right now?”

“You bet your perky ass it is Mesut.” Irina admires her reflection for a moment in the mirror before facing Mesut with a penetrating stare. “I have seen many things, I have seen Cris in many different states, but believe me when I say I do not want to, and will not, see a heartbroken Cris.”

“What if I’m the hea-”

“If you sort all this needless bullshit out I don’t think anyone is going to be heartbroken, least of all you.” Irina flicks her long mane, “I was never in love with him,” she looks out the window and swallows, “he was never in love with me either, don’t get me wrong we _do_  love eachother but,” she sighs and meets Mesut’s gaze, “but we were never in love.” “He is however, in love with you,” she’s smiling now, wide and honest, “you really should pay more attention, because ‘in-love’ Cris is so beautiful and what should make it even more beautiful to you in particular is the fact that you’ve been the cause of it.”

Mesut doesn’t know what to say, he opens and closes his mouth a couple of times.

“Oh and I figure Sami’s already threatened Cris so I guess it’s my turn now,” she positively beams, “Cristiano is like my brother, an over-gelled brother but a brother nonetheless, hurt him and I will hurt you right back and a hundred times worse,” she winks. Mesut has never been so terrified in his life. Irina checks her reflection one last time, nods to Mesut and sweeps out of the ladies bathroom.  

Mesut contemplates when his life turned into a soap opera that involved stupidly attractive idiots and frighteningly intimidating, beautiful women threatening him with bodily harm.

Perhaps it’s just a Spanish thing.

 

-

 

“He just needs some time.” Cris doesn’t look up when Iker sits down next to him.

“You would know,” Cris cracks a smile, “you took what, five years, to get your act together with Sergio?”

Iker groans, “no one is going to let me forget that are they?”

“Nope,” Cris grins, “we’ll probably even mention it at the wedding, I’ll put it in my best man speech obviously,” he whispers conspiratorially.  

“Don’t be silly, Xabi is the obvious choice for best man,” Iker delivers seriously, Cris feigns shock but he does note that Iker didn’t bother to hide his soft smile when Cris mentioned marriage.

“So marriage is on your to do list?” he asks.

Iker blinks, “I don’t know, I’m young,” Cris snorts at that, he’s practically _middle-aged_ (all that's missing is the two kids and mortgage) but Iker ignores him, “I’m young and Sergio even more so, but,” his eyes fill with affection, “but when I think of marriage, the only person I could think of taking on that challenge with is Sergio.”

Cris nods, sometimes he wishes things could be as simple for him as they are for Sergio and Iker. He says this and Iker laughs loudly, “do you suffer from short-term memory loss?” Iker grins, “it’s been a long journey, a really long one that has spanned years and numerous heartbreaks but it has been,” he looks at Cris seriously, “and it will be for you, utterly and completely worth the wait.” He gets up and squeezes Cris’ knee, “you’ve just got to give him a little time to heal.”

“Thank you,” Cris murmurs quietly.

“Anytime, consider it advice from a wise elder who has lived it all himself.”

 

-

 

Cris and Mesut tentatively start studying together again. They do not sit on opposite sides of the table anymore.

 

-

 

On Thursday, Mesut shares his vegetable sticks with Cris. Everyone at the table instinctively cheers but hush immediately when Cris glowers.

Xabi sniffles.

Fabio offers him a tissue.

 

-

 

“You’re being kind of immature about this,” Sergio mentions out of the blue. They’re stretching together and had been enjoying comfortable silence.

“How exactly am I being immature? How the hell would you know how I’m feeling?” Mesut asks defensively.

“Because I have been in your exact shoes,” Sergio responds calmly.   _Oh, right_  and Mesut recalls now, Sergio has been in his position. He had been for years.

“How,” Mesut grabs his foot and bends, “how did you _forgive_  him? You waited years Sergio”

“I realised that I couldn’t spend all my time bitter over things that have happened. All I could do was take all the time we have now and,” Sergio smiles as he watches Iker chatting with Mou, “and make up for the lost time.” He turns his expressive eyes to Mesut, “why be unhappy when you could be happy, when you could be in love?”

“What if I’m not ready to be happy, to be in-love?” Mesut asks meekly.

Sergio’s smile is knowing, “you are, you’ve healed already you’re just being held back by the fear of getting hurt again.”

Mesut looks away.

“Iker’s graduating in a few months,” Sergio’s smile now has a faint trace of sadness, “he’s going to university, and I know he’s not dying or breaking up with me or anything awful but,” he sighs, “but I’m obviously going to be seeing much less of him.” He laughs self-deprecatingly, “it’s so stupid but I don’t know what I’m going to do without him, I’ve only just _gotten_  him and he’s going...” Mesut nods, he can’t even begin to empathise with what Sergio must be feeling. Sergio looks down at his feet and when he looks up all traces of sadness have been replaced with warmth, “so I know I have to make the most of what little time we have until then.” Mesut can’t help his smile, Sergio and Iker are really a fairy tale, Iker always has his eyes trained on the future and Sergio, Sergio always has his eyes on Iker. They make quite the pair.

 

-

 

It all clicks in math class. It feels like a paper thin sheet of glass shattering inside Mesut’s mind, like someone has wiped some dirt off a window and _you can finally see things clearly now._ Cris does love him. He loves Cris. All that’s standing in the way is pride, _stupid pride_ and fear. (stupid fear)

It makes so much sense, _“make up for lost time,” “in-love Cris...so beautiful... you’re the cause,” “the way he looks at you… that should tell you more than enough,” “be brave… open your heart to love.”_  The words are reverberating around in Mesut’s head and the realisation makes him feel dizzy.

Mesut stands up and hears himself ask to be excused to go to the bathroom. He makes his way down the hallway to the english room in some sort of a trance. He walks in without knocking and everyone watches him, least of all Cris. “You alright Mesut?” he asks worry colouring his tone, Mesut nods, he forgets that there’s a whole class there, that Mr Beckham, _David_ , is teaching. David is watching him amusedly.

He sees the relief bloom in Cris’ eyes when Mesut tells him he’s alright and how, how did he not notice this. Cris is in love with him and… and Mesut… Mesut is also in love with him. Mesut takes a few steps to stand in front of Cris, “it makes sense now, it’s okay Cris, I get it now,” Mesut is acutely aware of a few people with their phones out but he couldn’t care less. “I get it now, I won’t fall again,” he breathes, “I’ve already fallen, I won’t need to get up again because you’ve fallen with me, we fell together, I just happened to wake up after you,” his face is so close to Cris,’ his words and breath are softly caressing Cris’ stunned face, “it’s okay because I’m here with you now, _I'm here_.” With that Mesut breaches the final few milimetres and presses his lips to Cris’.

Cris wastes no time and pulls Mesut into his lap, and that, Mesut doesn’t know how that makes him feel, the fact that if Mesut were to kiss him Cris would instantly just kiss him back.

Cris cups Mesut’s chin with one hand and strokes his cheek with the other. When he smiles into the kiss and Mesut tastes the salty tang of tears Mesut drops all his defences, he straddles Cris, brings his arms to rest on Cris’ broad shoulders and just _forgets the world._  Forgets anything outside of them, their lips, Cris’ soft lips which taste like the prize, standing at the podium at the end of a marathon, the feeling of the short strands of hair at the base of Cris' neck against the pads of his fingers and that feeling of _at last._  The final puzzle piece has thankfully, heart-clenchingly and perfectly clicked into place. Mesut sighs contentedly.

One person starts clapping.

 

Then another.

 

Then another.

 

Before long the entire class is applauding.

 

“Okay lads, time to break it up,” David is smirking. “This has been truly heartwarming and I’ve won a betting pool, so thanks for that, but if you can’t keep it PG we may have issues.”

Mesut startles and blushes, he tries to get up but Cris hugs him to his chest and refuses to let go. That makes Mesut smile, he looks up and nudges Cris’ nose with his own, Cris’ smile is so painfully overjoyed. Mesut brings his hand to gently touch the corners of his mouth which have also unconsciously turned up into a genuine smile.

Cris presses a kiss to Mesut’s lips, Mesut blushes again and realises Cris is shaking from the shock of it. He presses a reassuring kiss to the corner of his mouth, Cris nuzzles his neck back, “what brought all this on?” It’s slightly muffled but Mesut gets the gist. Gets Cris in general. ( _Has_ Cris now small voice reminds him )

“I wanted to make the most of this, of us,” Mesut replies simply.

 

-

 

Cris sighs and it's a mixture of relief, surprise, elation and, and also  _finally._

 

 

-

 

_The football team is apparently after any (I repeat **ANY** ) footage of Cris and Mesut's kiss(es). _

_Some people have heard that they're offering large amounts of money (??) to anyone who can provide a hi-resolution recording, it's mainly a senior movement , most of the junior players were in that class to begin with._

_Captain Casillas alternates between outraged that he missed the event and thrilled that Cris and Mesut are finally together._

_A similar movement seems to have begun within the teachers, sources reveal Sergio and Iker' were not the only betting pool._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way the two students at the start are based on Yovely and I (thank you for all the feedback, and just general greatness).  
> OMG it just hit me that there's probably just 2 more chapters (a last chapter and epilogue), i AM NOT READY FOR THAT  
> But anyways... thoughts? All feedback, comments, kudos etc are really appreciated :)  
> As always you can find me and befriend me at: www.letsbeabunchofweirdos.tumblr.com


	14. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes it's too hard to say goodbye, so you just don't ever say it.  
> (gets pretty mature, kids ;) just warning you)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brace yourselves, that's all.  
> Oh and you can listen to Things We Lost in the Fire - Bastille while you read if you like ;)  
> This chapter is dedicated to my favourite readers Laynne and Yovely, you wonderful people always brighten up my day and offer such nice feedback :)

“You know technically I’m responsible for all this,” Clarisse smugly quips one day over lunch.

Everyone but Sergio laughs, he pouts, “no, I’m the one who teased them first, plus I convinced Mesut to give Cris’ sorry ass a second chance, surely I should get the recognition!”

Clarisse rolls her eyes, “you already got your man, Ramos, I wouldn’t be that greedy if I were you!”

Sergio opens his mouth to retort but Iker tugs him back into his lap and silences him with a kiss. Everyone watches on with fondness evident in their eyes.

“Well, Sergio looks otherwise occupied and in that case, thank you everyone, your gratitude is much appreciated,” Clarisse flutters her eyelashes before breaking out into a toothy grin.

“Psh, don’t flatter yourself I think I played a major role in the bullshit clean up, I think I deserve _some_ if not _all_  the recognition,” Irina remarks.

Clarisse’s jaw drops, “oh, hell no,” they begin playfully arguing.

Mesut leans back into Cris’ chest, Cris’ arm is wrapped around his waist, holding him to Cris. Holding him together. He’s content to let them bicker. Cris presses his nose into Mesut’s neck, “I think _you’re_  kind of responsible for this.”

Mesut smiles, “how so?” He twists around giving Cris’ lips a quick peck. Cris will never be able to get used to this, the normalcy of it all, the fact he has Mesut, gets to *keep* him.

“Well, if you weren’t so adorable, so perfect,” Cris kisses his neck and Mesut shivers, “so _you_  I don’t think I would have come out, much less,” another kiss, another shiver, “found this, and fallen so hard.”

“What a coincidence,” Mesut breathes.

Cris smiles into Mesut’s neck, “why?”

“I feel the exact same,” he replies before planting a kiss on a moved Cris.

“Why do I always feel like a third wheel with them and Casillas and Ramos?” Clarisse’s exasperated voice cuts through the _moment._

“...you have me!” Marcelo interjects waving his arms, “what am I?”

Clarisse grins wickedly, “you are,”  she cocks her head as she deliberates, “completely and hopelessly clueless,” and she kisses him on the cheek. Marcelo blushes.

Mesut settles back into Cris warm and safe arms and knows that he won’t fall again. Knows that if he feels like he will fall, he will have Cris’ arms there to steady him. Sergio makes eye-contact with him from across the table. “see,” he mouths, “it’s worth it.”

“I guess,” Mesut shrugs his shoulders but he can’t keep the content smile off his face.

Mesut lets his eyes wander around the table. Mesut never imagined moving schools would provide him with so much, friends, family, people who cared about him. Mesut shakes his head in disbelief, Fabio seems to be trying to fit as many Maltesers as he can into his mouth without them melting, Pepe and Marcelo are cheering him on, Sami is watching on amusedly. He smiles at Mesut and raises his eyebrow, _“are you happy?”_ he seems to be asking. Mesut just smiles and nods, _“I am, I really am,”_ he tries to convey. Sami nods satisfied.

Irina’s smile looks so happy, it’s probably because she’s got happiness for so many people. She bites her lip and pulls out her mobile. Moments later Mesut’s phone pings.

***You look happy. At peace.***

Mesut thinks over his response for a few moments and settles on a straightforward and honest,

***Yes, I am.***

***Is it that obvious?***

Irina’s grin grows, she taps out her response.

***Yes, very.***

***But if it makes you feel better, Cris is just as bad at hiding his feelings.***

Mesut blushes, it sort of does.

***Then I guess we make quite an odd couple***

Irina looks up at him, she shakes her head n disbelief.

***No, you make a *perfect couple Mesut.***

 

-

 

Cris still opens the car door for Mesut and he still rolls his eyes at the, in his opinion, unnecessary gesture but he no longer argues with Cris over it. At one point Cris looks over to see Mesut bopping his head to some catchy pop song, the memory of Mesut bopping along to a song during a study session and how much Cris wanted him catches him off guard. The realisation that he has him now, that he doesn’t have to fight his feelings anymore is one of the most breathtakingly perfect sensations ever. Cris swallows and averts his gaze, eyes on the road he smiles to himself.

“You okay?” Mesut asks, Cris turns around to find the full force of Mesut’s large expressive eyes on him.

Cris begins to dismiss the question but then decides against it, “uh I was just remembering how much I wanted you before and how,” Cris glances onto the road and back at Mesut, “and how lucky I am that I have you now.”

Cris knows there is still a long way for them to go, still so much he has yet to learn about Mesut (he found out Mesut likes carbs, no, Mesut loves carbs, just the other day Cris watched him devour four, I repeat _four_ , donuts and lick the leftover icing sugar off his long fingers afterwards, Cris was torn between intense arousal and horror). In spite of that he feels terrifyingly and selfishly blessed to just _have_  Mesut. Cris realises he has been staring at Mesut for a while but Mesut just smiles and the corners of his eyes crinkle adorably and Cris just wants _to kiss him_  and the best most amazing thing is that _he can_.

Mesut doesn’t say anything but he silently reaches his hand out to clasp Cris’.

They stay like that for the whole ride.

 

1 month later

 

Sergio breaks down in chemistry class (not taught by Mou anymore, _he’s_ now _‘football specialist,’_ which basically means he just alternates between yelling at the boys and getting teary-eyed, anyway he gets a badge with his name on it and a hoodie with the words 'Coach' emblazoned on it now so everyone's happy).

Everything was fine but out of the blue he snaps, along with six pencils, Cris has to escort Sergio to the sickbay.

Word gets around quickly and not long after Iker is cutting class to go see if he’s okay.

When he approaches the doorway Cris obscures Iker from entering the room, he responds by pushing roughly at Cris’ shoulder, “what the fuck, Cris?” he snaps, “I just want to make sure Sergio is okay.”

“No,” Cris says simply pushing Iker back, “you’re the last person he needs to see now.”

That surprises Iker, “wait, what? Is it me? Did I do something?”

Cris shakes his head, “no, but I still think I should talk to him first,” he places a hand on Iker’s shoulder, “please, it’s for his own good.”

Iker begrudgingly nods, “just,” he looks at Cris desperately, “just please let me know if he needs me.”

Cris promises Iker he will and watches him reluctantly make his way back to class.

“He’s gone,” he says quietly over his shoulder, “do you want to talk about what happened now?”

Sergio smiles wryly, “I might as well,” his gaze is focused on his hands, “thanks for giving us some space,” he adds.

Cris perches on the corner of the bed, “no problem, what happened?” he asks again

“He’s going to college in about three months,” Sergio bites his lip and his eyes fill with tears, he allows them to drip down his face, “he’s leaving me.”

“He’s not lea-”

“He’s going,” Sergio amends quietly, “and he’ll be fine,” his voice cracks and Cris can only watch as Sergio’s walls completely _collapse in on themselves_ , “but me? I don’t know how to _fucking exist_  without him.”

Cris considers telling him that Iker would never leave him and that he loves him and so on but then he remembers something.

Cris remembers Mesut curled up next to him late at night and doubting everything from Cris’ love for him to whether tomorrow was worth waiting for, he remembers Mesut softly whispering to him, “sometimes you just want to be understood, instead of loved.” Cris didn’t understand at the time, he just silently held Mesut into the early hours of morning until Mesut’s shaking turned into the regular breathing of peaceful asleep.

Now it makes sense.

“It feels like you’ll be forgotten, it’s the worst feeling because you think that he’s going to college and there will be all these new experiences, new and _shiny_  things and people that you just aren’t, he’s not going to throw you away, no, he’s going to stop paying attention for a few seconds and you’ll just blow away in the breeze and he won’t even notice,” Cris murmurs. Sergio is watching him with wide eyes. “But you know what Sese? That’s complete and utter bullshit.” Cris stares at Sergio, eyes blazing, “Iker is going to go but he’s not leaving _you_ , he’s leaving high-school, he’s leaving stone walls and brick buildings but you, and love and  _soul mates_ , he couldn’t run or hide from that even if he wanted to, trust me Sese, he loves you.”

Sergio is shaking his head, “I’m, I’m just, I’m his first boyfriend, I’m not going to be his last.”

Cris smiles, “he’s not Alex, and neither are you if we're really going there, Alex was the first boyfriend, the asshole that pushes your boundaries but also teaches you how and where to build your new ones when they leave you with nothing but the ruins of what _was,_  you and Iker aren’t normal, you guys are just _right_ , you guys are that one in a million. You’re his first and last, don’t doubt that for a second. You guys defy the odds, and of course it’s not easy, I’ll tell you right now. It’s. Not. Going. To. Be. Easy. But is Iker worth it?”

“Obviously,” Sergio answers instinctively.

“Exactly,” Cris leans up against the wall, “it will work out because it’s has to,” Cris lets his words sink in.

“When did you become so knowledgeable?” Sergio asks eventually.

“I have no idea,” they both laugh, Cris sobers up, “I have a hunch though that it’s when you fall in love,” he runs a hand through his hair, “I have a hunch that when you fall in love you’re no longer a single entity, you’re a _part of something_  and then you understand so much more because you _are_  so much more.” Cris laughs nervously, “it’s stupid though, I’m just rambling,” he shrugs, “you should really talk to Iker though, he’s worried and it’s healthy to you know, explain why you have nervous breakdowns,” he adds jokingly.  

Sergio nods. Cris turns to leave, he's only taken a few steps before he hears Sergio whisper, “it’s not stupid.” 

 

3 months later

 

Graduation is tomorrow morning and Mou has organised a somewhat belated joint, “we fucking won the big shiny trophy” and “we’ll miss you stupidly irreplaceable seniors” party. Naturally Sergio and Iker are inseparable, in place of Sergio’s prior doubt is a bright smile and hope for what is yet to come.

Once Sergio confided in his doubts to Iker he clumsily tried to propose to Sergio in a desperate attempt to assure him of his love. Which of course resulted in Sergio laughing and Iker being both confused and embarrassed. Perhaps that proposal, though not finalised or formally accepted, _not yet at least_ , did help Sergio to understand how much he means to Iker, and perhaps that’s all that really matters.

Later in the evening Iker names Sergio as his replacement for captain next year. No one is surprised at his choice and no one mentions the fact that he doesn’t really get to make that decision, no one honestly thinks Mou is going to fight him about it. 

The seniors are farewelled and tears are shed. Lot's of tears. Mostly from Xabi, Marcelo, Pepe and Fabio but in all honesty no one ends the night dry-eyed. 

Iker doesn’t leave Sergio’s side for the whole night.

 

-

 

Cris doesn’t leave Mesut either, not ever, and certainly not that night.

He runs his hands up and down Mesut’s naked torso and feels his chest rise and fall, feels him shiver. Mesut’s eyes are wide and glassy, he’s panting and when Cris presses himself against him his breath hitches. “We can stop if you want, just say the word, I don’t care how far in we’ve gone, if you want me to stop, I’ll stop,” Cris assures him, fingers curling around his hips and stroking mindless circles into Mesut’s skin.

Mesut’s grip on Cris’ forearm is surprisingly strong considering he’s currently trying in vain to buck his hips up to meet Cristiano’s own. Cris’ strong legs are bracketing Mesuts and holding them down. “Don’t you fucking dare stop,” Mesut breathes into his neck, “god, just Cris, get _i_ _nside me._ ” Cris groans when Mesut finally succeeds in grinding their hips together. He knows Mesut is going to be the death of him, he just _knows._

“Are you sure?” he still asks again.

Mesut growls and presses his hips against Cris’ impatiently and revels in Cris resulting low moan. “If you ask me if I’m sure one more time I think I’m actually going to kill you,” he threatens.

“Alright then,” before Mesut can sigh in relief Cris assaults his neck and sucks a handful of bruises onto his neck. By now Mesut’s eyes are impossibly lust-filled and Cris would be lying if he said his own were any different. Mesut just has this effect on him, he's refreshing yet intoxicatingly addictive at the same time. He captures his lips in a scorching kiss. Mesut moans against Cris' lips, he's shaking with how much he wants Cris.

"If you don't hurry this up I'll have to take matters into my own hands," Mesut moans.

Cris smirks, "and how exactly do you plan on achieving that?" he enquires.

Mesut just yanks Cris in for another kiss and begins to suck and nibble at his lip. Cristiano's already tenuous grasp on his self-control is all but gone. He grunts and pushes all the way inside Mesut in one fluid motion. 

They both sigh. 

Cris's sensations are overwhelmed by the intense feeling of  _home,_  and that should frighten him that one person can feel so much like home but instead it just feels like relief and like returning home, returning back to the start but rather at the end.

He starts off slow, however Mesut's soft panting and obscene moans encourage him to pick up his pace. Before long Mesut is clawing at Cris' back and meeting him thrust for delicious thrust. Cris kisses his open mouth and grunts as Mesut gasps, hands scrabbling to find something to hold onto. His hands grip Cris' shoulders and he pants, "yes, Cris, yes," over and over.

"I love you, Mesut, not just now, not just because you feel," Cris moans changing his angle slightly, " _fucking perfect,"_ Mesut arches his back, "but god, _I_ _love you_ , I want you, want this forever." 

"Then take it, it's all yours," Mesut babbles, " _fucking take it, take all of it, take **me** ,"_  Mesut's voice hitches on the last word, his whole body clenches and they both tumble over the edge. Together.

Afterwards Cris kisses Mesut and strokes his back, "did you mean it?" he asks.

Mesut doesn't answer, he just kisses Cris.  

 

-

_Iker Casillas, Xabi Alonso, and Ricardo Kaka have all been accepted into the prestigious Madrid Real football academy._

_Sergio was spotted bidding Iker farewell in the early hours of the morning, both appeared to be wearing what suspiciously resembled promise rings._

_-_

_Rumour has it, upon meeting Mesut for the first time, Cristiano's mother begged him to marry Cris._

_"If you can make him as happy as he is now, please never leave his side."_

_Mesut's response is, as of yet, unknown._

_Sources say they are planning to elope in the summer holidays._

_San Iker will officiate._

_Pepe and Marcelo will be bridesmaids._

_Sami will walk Mesut down the aisle. and give him away_

_Xabi of course, will be best man._

_-_

_However, one can never be too sure of rumours._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So thoughts? (did you guys cringe like I did at my attempt at sexy-times??)  
> Don't worry that's not the last you'll see of our lovable idiots. I'm definitely going to write an epilogue (just don't know when I'll get around to doing that.)  
> I'm not too happy with the ending :/ but it will do  
> I cannot believe this is the sort of end. I really cannot believe it. It feels like when parents have to end children off to college and you're worried you won't see them for ages even though you make promises to stay in contact :(  
> Anywaysies keep an eye out for the epilogue!
> 
> Btw did anyone catch the Arsenal v Aston Villa game?? My bby was ON FIREEE!! :'D SLAY BBY SLAAAAY THE HATERRS <3


	15. Epilogue (kind of)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the end is just the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, this is 'The End' but trust me, you'll like this chapter.  
> I'd advise you to listen to Budapest - George Ezra whilst reading this chapter <3  
> I'm getting a little emotional about the last chap but yeah, as always, enjoy!  
> I'm gonna put a long 'thank you' in the end notes :)

Cliché as it sounds everyone’s eyes are on the clock. It does feel like time is moving extra slowly. Cris glances to his left and shakes his head; _of course_  Sergio is on his phone. The teachers have given up on repeatedly telling him to put it away, love birds in a long distance relationship are crafty and will not be denied constant communication.

Sergio coughs to get Cris’ attention, “they’ll be here in half an hour,” he mouths grinning widely. Cris gives him a thumbs up.

“How’s the hubby?” Cris whispers conspiratorially.

Sergio blushes and flips him off but the gold band on his hand sort of ruins the effect. “We’re not getting married, shut the fuck up,” he whispers back.

“Please, promise ring? Promise ring my perfectly sculpted ass, we all know that’s a _wait-until-I-get-the-nerve-to-actually-propose-ring_.”

Sergio rolls his eyes but he doesn't deny it.

A small folded up note lands on Cris’ table

***They on their way??***

Cris nods to Mesut and grins,

***Sese says 30min***

Mesut writes on the back of Cris' note,

***In the meantime… janitor’s closet?***

Cris groans under his breath, Jesus Christ Mesut is going to kill him. Despite his best intentions Cris feels himself getting half hard.

 ***You’re pure evil*** he quickly scrawls and tosses the note at Mesut’s desk. He unfolds the sheet and smirks biting his lip.

 ***That wasn’t a ‘no’*** Cris can feel Mesut's smugness.

***No it wasn’t***

“Ramos, you’re a senior, surely you’re attention span should have improved by now! We all know you’re dying to see Casillas again but please at least write down the homework,” the frazzled teacher laments.   

Cris tries to stifle his laughter.

Mesut raises his hand, “Ms, can I please go use the bathroom?” She just nods wearily.

“Ms I left my notebook in the chem room, can I just go pick it up?” She doesn’t look amused but she doesn’t say no either.

“Seriously guys, there’s like 15 minutes until the end of the day, can’t you keep it in your pants?” Pipita reprimmands.

“It is kind of romantic in a slightly weird way,” Clarisse suggests whilst tapping her glittery pen against the table.

Cris just sticks his tongue out at Pipita.

Sami raises his eyebrows at Cris.

Cris doesn’t know what to say. _Big brother mode activated: Abort mission, abort mission._

Sami sighs and chuckles, “just look after him and treat him right okay?” he mouths.

Cris nods, “always.”

 

-

 

They’re only ten or so minutes into the tryouts when they arrive. Sergio flings his clipboard to the ground and fucking  _sprints_  towards the car.

“Hey Sese, how’s captaincy treating you?” Iker grins.

Sergio just pulls him in for a long kiss. Everyone else ambles over to say hello.

“Hey guys, sorry we’re not going to give that warm a welcome,” Marcelo grins gesturing to Iker and Sergio.

Xabi and Ricky laugh. Carol launches herself into Ricky’s arms like a cannon ball being fired through the air.

Everyone clusters around the three graduates.

“We missed you, man,” Cris elbows Xabi.

He laughs, “good thing I have not missed any of you at all,” Cris pouts and then also laughs.

“Is this because of this mysterious Englishman you’ve supposedly met?” Xabi colours, “yep, Ricky told me _all_  about him,” Cris waggles his eyebrows.

“He’s hopeless at Spanish and his accent is terrible,” Xabi smiles fondly, “he’s not too bad at football, though. Ricky wasn’t meant to tell anyone.”

Cris pats him on the back as consolation.

 

-   

 

Tryouts go well, sure, there are loads of kids who would never make it but there are a few exceptions. Enough exceptions.

Iker watches Sergio lead the tryouts, eyes bright with love and pride. Cris catches Mou rolling his eyes and wiping away subtle tears from time to time. He always knew he was a sentimental man with complex emotions.

Xabi and Ricky take in turns to jeer and cheer in the bleachers and the team all flip them off.

 

-

 

“So how is everything, how are your studies?” Iker asks wrapping his arms around Sergio’s middle. They’re sat in the goals, after the tryouts and everyone is scattered around the pitch.

“Everything is fine, I miss you a lot but that’s all,” Sergio smiles as Iker kisses his shoulder. “Everyone is teasing me over the ring though,” he holds out his hand and admires the way the setting sun reflects off the simple gold band. “Cris is convinced it’s a, “ _wait-until-you-get-the-nerve-to-propose-ring_ ,” in his own words.”

Iker tenses, “so uh, you don’t want to get married?” he asks casually.

Sergio bites his lip, “I didn’t say that, I just, I understand if it’s too early for you, I mean you know I’d wait for however long you need but, I uh I wouldn’t be against it,” his cheeks are burning and his shoulders are hunched.

Ikers arms relax around Sergio, “I want to,” he says into Sergio’s neck, he feels Sergio relax as well. “Maybe,” he considers, “maybe right after you graduate from college, if you’ll still have me that is,” Iker hastily adds.

Sergio’s smile is brighter than the sun setting in the distance, “I’ll always have you,” he says softly. Iker just tilts his face towards him and kisses him.

After a few minutes Sergio clears his throat, “I’ll probably graduate from college in about 5 years, you really gonna make me wait 5 years, Iker?” Sergio pouts.

Iker laughs and buries his head in Sergio’s neck again, he wishes they could stay like this forever, stay here forever and stay together forever. “I said _maybe_  Sese, you know we aren’t exactly known for sticking to the game plan.”

They both laugh. Iker squeezes Sergio’s waist tightly, “I’d still wait forever for you,” Sergio murmurs affectionately.

“So would I,” Iker replies into his lips.

 

-

 

“You know when I first met you…” Mesut trails off tracing the love bites he left on Cris’ chest a few nights ago. _Of course he took his top off after tryouts, of course everyone wolf-whistled and of course Mesut blushed._

“In chem class with Mou,” Cris supplies still stroking his face.

“Yeah, in chem class,” Mesut looks up into Cris’ eyes, “I thought you were way out of my league.” He laughs softly to himself, “I still kind of do,” Mesut adds.

“That’s, that’s, who said that, did someone say that?” Cris sits up in indignation, “Mesut, don’t, don’t ever believe bullshit like that, if anything you’re far, far too good for me, if anything you’re way out of MY league, how dare they, who’s the idiot who’s going around and saying that?”

Mesut rolls his eyes and yanks Cris, who does not squeak thank you very much, back down next to him. “No one said that, well I said that, to you. Because that’s what I think.”

“Well you shouldn’t,” Cris says hotly. “You’re, you surpass all words I could use to describe your greatness,” Mesut wriggles closer towards him and tucks his head into Cris’ neck, instinctively Cris brings his arms to wrap around Mesut, “I don’t ever want you to not realize that I love everything about you Mesut. Every damn thing.”

“I love you Cris,” Cris tries to dial down his shock, sure _he’s_  said those _t_ _hree words, eight letters_  plenty of times to Mesut but he’s never said them back. Until now. “I know I haven’t said that before but I do,” Cris kisses the top of his head and breathes in.

“I love you too, you’re probably sick of hearing it but I love you.”

Mesut shakes his head, “no, I could never get sick of hearing that,” he says solemnly, he bites his lip, “sometimes I can’t believe that this,” Mesut traces a love heart into the space where Cris’ heart is, “that this, is mine.”

Cris gently grasps his hand and presses a tender kiss into each fingertip, “well get used to it Mesut, you’re stuck with this lump of feelings for you, ball and chain, you're stuck with me,” he whispers into his fingertips.

Mesut’s soft smile is gorgeous, “I guess I have no choice then,” he replies coyly. He pulls Cris into him, places one hand over Cris’ heart and presses his lips against Cris’.

Okay so maybe their moment doesn’t last quite as long as they’d like.

“OKAY WE GET IT GUYS, YOU’RE IN LOVE AND YOU’RE BOTH TOO GOOD FOR EACH OTHER AND THE WHOLE GODDAMN UNIVERSE, WE GET IT ALREADY!! NOW STOP- OW!!”

Clarisse and Irina both hit Marcelo on the head and Cris and Mesut watch bemusedly as everyone else joins in. Eventually they all relocate to where Iker and Sergio are and ruin _their_ moment as well, by turning it into a giant puppy pile.

“You’re stuck with them as well you know,” Cris murmurs as a reluctant Angel is forced to ride Marcelo like a cowboy. Pepe engulfs Iker and Sergio into a three-way hug where only one person is there voluntarily. Ricky, Xabi and Sami are giving the girls piggy back rides and Pipita is collapsed on the ground laughing. 

“It would seem so, wouldn’t it,” Mesut chuckles snuggling closer to Cris, "it would seem so."

 

_Fin._

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this is gonna be long, apologies in advance, I never thought I'd write a chaptered fic but here I am and I'm honest to god a little emotional that it's actually coming to an end as pathetic as it sounds.   
> I'd like to thank everyone who has read this from the start and have given me feedback, I honestly cherish every single comment I have received even if I didn't respond to every single one of them. I always thought I was sort of shit at writing but this has just made me feel so much better about my writing and everyone's encouragement has meant the world to me. I especially want to thank Laynne who is a total darling and who has become my tumblr friend (<3 :) <3) you rock so much and I wanna thank you for wishing me luck multiple times during a math assessment. (Oh and please, all of you, feel free to talk to me on tumblr at www.letsbeabunchofweirdos.tumblr.com I love making new friends and I promise I don't bite ;) unless you're into that of course lol)  
> Basically this fic may be just another story to you but it is has done so much for me :) I want to thank everyone who read it, skimmed through, commented, gave kudos or loyally followed from the start, you all rock and I LOVE YOU ALL!!!  
> I don't know if I'll start a long fic again for a while but feel free to send me prompts on tumblr, I'm happy to write MOST ships :D   
> OMG I"M SO EMOTIONAL OVER WRITING AND FINISHING A FIC WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?!?! I FEEL LIKE I'M SENDING A CHILD TO COLLEGE OR SOMETHING DAMN. I DON'T WANT THIS TO END BUT I'M STILL SO PROUD WHAT THE HELL?!?!  
> Oh my gosh I know I've been rambling but seriously, thanks for even just reading this long ass 'end note' that alone should earn you a cookie or something <3  
> Much love and thanks,  
> Meisels_Muse xx


End file.
